


If You're Not Here With Me

by PrettiestStar17



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, Angst, Breakup, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Fred Lives, Fremione - Freeform, Fremione Fanatics' Yule Fest 2020, Gay Character, HEA, Letters, Mistletoe, Neutral Milk Hotel, Nonbinary Character, Yule, some fucks given
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27614708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettiestStar17/pseuds/PrettiestStar17
Summary: “There really isn’t much to say. After he regained consciousness, we flirted a bit, which led to a very nice kiss. Then the universe played a cruel trick and I had to leave for Australia then very next day.” Hermione frowned and let out a slow breath. “I didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye. I had to leave a note.”Hermione has returned to England after spending three years in Australia, working to restore her parents' memories. She finds she still has a lot of feelings for Fred but it doesn't seem as though those feelings are reciprocated, for several reasons. Can the thoughtful gifts from her secret Santa help distract her?This story was written for the Fremione Fanatics Yule Fest. Lots of thanks and Christmas cheer to omnenomnom for being my beta and to moonfairy13 for being my cheerleader all the way through the writing process!The title of the fic is taken from the song Blue Christmas, by Elvis Prestley
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 86
Kudos: 204
Collections: Fremione Fanatics 2020 Yule fest





	1. Chapter 1

“Well, well, well. Look what the kneazle dragged in.”

Hermione Granger smiled as the door to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes shut behind her. George Weasley stood behind a grand, antique golden till checking out one of the few customers that were in the store. Being the end of November, the store was still two weeks away from hosting a hoard of last-minute holiday shoppers. 

Hermione approached the counter as a woman took her bag from George and headed for the door. George looked a lot like how he had three years ago, with the main difference being that his hair had been cut short and he now sported a gold band on his left hand. 

“How are you, George?” she asked as she attempted to scan the rest of the shop for an identical mop of red hair without being too obvious.

“I’m good,” George answered with a nod and then a smirk before adding, “So is Fred.”

“I wasn’t asking about Fred. I was asking about you.” She grabbed his hand and pulled it closer to inspect his ring. “How’s married life treating you?”

“Wonderfully. We celebrated two years last month and have started to look for a proper house.” He leaned in close and whispered, “Our flat is going to be too small in another six months.” Hermione gasped and beamed up at him but he put a finger to his mouth. “Mum’s the word. We’re telling everyone at Christmas.”

“Congratulations!” Hermione whispered. “And send my love to Angelina.”

George nodded and stood back up. “So, what brings you back around these streets?”

“I’ve officially moved back.”

“Really? For good?”

“Yeah, really for good,” Hermione laughed. “It was a long journey but my parents finally have their memories back and without any lasting side effects, thankfully.”

“That’s great news. Ginny has been keeping me up on most of it. I can’t believe it took that long.”

“Didn’t Fred tell you about any of it? Merlin knows I wrote him enough letters about it all.”

George’s face fell and he shook his head. “I don’t recall him getting any letters. He must have decided to keep them to himself.”

Hermione frowned. “Oh. Maybe.” Finally confronting the question she had been avoiding, she asked, “How is he?”

“He’s doing well. Anyone who doesn’t know him wouldn’t be able to tell a wall almost crushed him to death.”

“And those that do know him?”

“He has some lasting nerve damage on his left side,” George said with a grimace. “There’s a slight limp to his gait now if you watch closely and his left hand isn’t as steady as it used to be. Luckily he’s right-handed so it hasn’t affected his spell and potion work. I think he’d be downright intolerable if that ability had been taken from him.”

Hermione nodded and rapidly blinked back tears that were starting to form. She couldn’t help but choke up a little when she asked, “Is he happy?”

George moved his hand to cover hers and gave it a squeeze. “I think so. He’s been seeing Bethany now for almost two years and she seems to be good for him.”

“I sense a but...”

George nodded and said, “But it’s hard to get a read on her. She doesn’t come around often, and when she does, she’s vague and overly sweet. Like she’s covering up something and doesn’t want anyone to get too close.” He shrugged and continued, “Fred hasn’t had any extraordinary complaints though so I assume they get along well.” He frowned at Hermione and gave her hand another squeeze. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“No, no. It is what I wanted to hear. I don’t want him to be miserable. The few moments he and I shared are like a droplet of mist in the ocean of time.” Hermione cringed and shook her head. “Wow, that came out poetically tragic. I’m glad he has someone that makes him happy”

“I’m still sorry, though. I like the idea of having you as a sister-in-law. Charlie’s still single if you’re interested,” George suggested.

“No, he’s not. Charlie is married to his dragons,” Hermione laughed through a sniffle. 

“Exactly the reason he needs a good woman in his life!” There was a moment of silence and then George asked, “Can I ask what happened between you two? Fred didn’t say much about it after you left.”

“There really isn’t much to say. After he regained consciousness, we flirted a bit, which led to a very nice kiss. Then the universe played a cruel trick and I had to leave for Australia then very next day.” Hermione frowned and let out a slow breath. “I didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye. I had to leave a note.”

“I’m sorry. That’s rough.”

Hermione nodded and stepped to the side so that George could ring up the next customer, and inspected a display of what looked like Muggle mood rings. The sign above them read ‘Reflection Rings’. Instead of sensing your moods, it claimed to read the tone of your thoughts.

“Try one on,” George said. He plucked a ring with an oval gemstone from the shelf and handed it to Hermione. 

“What’s the difference between these and a Muggle mood ring?” Hermione asked, slipping the ring on. The white of the gemstone instantly swirled away and was replaced with grey.

“The main difference is that those Muggle rings don’t actually read your mood. They’re affected by heat. Come on Granger. You know that,” he laughed, giving her shoulder a playful punch. “We were going to make it so these actually did detect your mood but then we thought knowing the nature of one’s thoughts might be more useful. For example, your grey stone is telling me your thoughts are of a gloomy nature. I know to try and steer the topic to a happier discussion topic. If in the middle of a conversation your ring were to turn red, I know your thoughts are angry and I should shield my bollocks or maybe run and hide.”

Hermione giggled and as the image of George running for cover materialized in her mind, the stone’s color transitioned from grey to sapphire blue. “That’s really very clever,” she said, and the blue color lightened but didn’t go back to grey.

“Light blue means your thoughts are content,” he said, pointing to a color chart on the display. Hermione went to take the ring off but George stopped her and said, “Keep it. Consider it a welcome home gift.”

Hermione smiled and said, “Thank you.”

“What’s the brightest witch of her age going to do now that she’s home?”

“I’m actually your neighbor now.”

George’s jaw dropped. “You’re the new owner of Flourish and Blotts?” Hermione nodded and he laughed. “We’ve been watching the renovations the last few weeks, wondering what the hell was happening. You reopened today, right?”

“Yeah. No big grand opening or anything like that. But I reorganized things and put in a coffee and pastry bar, along with some comfy chairs so people can hang out and read. I actually got to hold interviews and hire an assistant, like a proper boss.”

“Congratulations! I can’t wait to see it. What are you doing here then? Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Lunch break. Thought I’d pop by to see if you’re free.”

“I should be able to break away in a few minutes. Tell you what. There’s a Thai place, a block down from the Muggle entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. Go snag a table and I’ll meet you there.”

“Great. I’ll see you soon.”

* * *

  
  


“Newt spleens are costing a fortune these days,” Fred griped as he leaned against the counter next to his twin. “Magnus wanted forty-galleons for the lot. There was a moment where I thought he was gonna ask for a kidney.”

“Did you give it to him?” George asked, locking the till and aiming his wand at the front door to flip their sign to CLOSED.

“The galleons? Yes. I still have both kidneys, though.”

“Good. We’ll probably need those for powdered bicorn horn next week.” George laughed and gave him a slap on the back. 

“I’m starving. What do you want to do for lunch?” Fred asked.

“I was thinking Thai. It’s been a while since we’ve been to Thai One On.”

“Excellent idea. Let’s go.”

“You go ahead and grab a table. I have a few quick things to take care of.”

Fred gave him a confused look and said, “Can’t it wait? We’ll be back within an hour.”

“I don’t want to risk forgetting this. Go ahead, I’ll only be five minutes behind.”

“Alright. Order you the usual?”

“Much appreciated.”

Fred left through the front door, locking it behind him, and made his way through the cobbled thoroughfare of Diagon Alley. He greeted the familiar faces in the Leaky and took a raincheck on Tom’s offer of a Butterbeer. Out in Muggle London, he took a right and pushed his way through the crowded footpath. He could smell the spices when he was three buildings away and his mouth started watering. He hadn’t had anything since his frozen waffles that morning and he was ready to dig into a plate of drunken noodles.

Stepping into the warmth of the restaurant, Fred scanned the room looking for an empty table or booth. It was prime time for lunch and the place was packed. He saw a small empty table in the corner and started for it when he was stopped in his tracks by the woman sitting on the other side. 

The mass of chestnut curls was a sight he had not seen in three years and she wasn’t what he had been expecting to find in one of the hundreds of Thai restaurants in London. Fred wasn’t sure how he should react, and as he stood frozen a couple squeezed past him and claimed the table he’d had his eye on. 

As the couple took their seats, Hermione glanced up, and her eyes locked with his. She blinked once and then smiled as she got to her feet. The smile faded as Fred started to back away and he heard her call out his name as he turned around and left the restaurant. 

Outside, Fred hurried to the other side of the street. He wanted to avoid running into his brother because he wasn’t sure how he’d explain to his mother that he was in a Muggle jail for homicide. He wasn’t entirely sure how, but he knew George was responsible for that ‘chance meeting’. Traitorous bastard. George knew how much Hermione’s sudden move had hurt him and how long it had taken him to move past it all. What the hell was he thinking of, sending Fred into that situation?

He grabbed a sandwich and some soup on his way back through the Leaky and holed up in his flat above the shop to have his lunch. While he ate, he penned an angry note to his sister that simply said, ‘ _Thanks for the head’s up_ ’ and sent it off with his owl, Loki. As he was finishing up his soup, Loki returned with Ginny’s reply of ‘ _Seriously? I thought we were past this?_ ’

Fred gave Loki a treat and stroked the owl’s head while he let his anger fade. Ginny was right. He was past this. Whatever he thought he and Hermione had was obviously not as strongly felt by her. If it was, surely he would have gotten a letter letting him know. He had moved on and was with Bethany.

When he heard footsteps downstairs, Fred cleaned up and went down to join his brother for the start of their afternoon hours. He didn’t say anything as he entered the shop, opting for the cold shoulder approach to show his frustration at his brother’s antics. As per usual, George paid it no mind and asked, “You want to talk about it?”

“Nothing to talk about,” Fred said in a clipped tone.

“Right. So you just ran out of the restaurant on a whim?”

“You’re a right arse sometimes, you know? We’re not kids anymore, George. You could have told me she was back instead of letting me go in there completely unprepared.”

“I thought if you knew, you wouldn’t go.”

“You thought right.”

“She’s worried about you.”

“I hope you told her there’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine.” Fred flipped the sign and unlocked the door.

Thankfully, George let the subject drop and they worked together in cordial silence for the next few hours. After spending a hot hour in the lab to get a jump start on their fireworks production, Fred’s left leg started tingling and going numb. He took a break and stepped outside to stretch and let the early winter breeze cool him down. He noticed their neighboring shop, Flourish and Blotts, was finally reopened under its new management.

“Did you see Flourish and Blotts is open again?” he asked, stepping back into the shop.

“I heard they started serving decent coffee and baked goods. You should go get us a caffeine fix,” George suggested.

“Sure. Back in a mo,” Fred said, stepping back outside. He opened the door to the bookshop and held it as a mother and her little boy exited. She had a cup of coffee and the little boy was chomping happily on a chocolate chip cookie with his new book tucked under his arm. Fred took a deep breath, savoring the aroma of fresh coffee and sugary treats.

The bell above the door tinkled as the door shut behind him. Before he could take a step, a familiar voice made him freeze for the second time that day.

“This is one of my favorite series. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Looking to the checkout counter, Fred locked eyes once more with Hermione Granger. Without a word, Fred turned and left the shop, stomping back over to his own. 

“You’re a bastard,” Fred muttered as he passed George on his way back to the lab.

“You have to talk to her sometime,” George called after him.

“I know! I just…” Fred groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “Stop sending me into situations unprepared. Let me do it in my own time.”

* * *

  
  


Hermione had been expecting an awkward reunion with Fred, but never would have thought he would have completely written her off. She didn’t think anything romantic between them was still there but had hoped that they would be able to remain friends. 

When he had walked out on her at the Thai restaurant she was heartbroken and by the time George arrived, she was in tears. He had been able to help calm her down and explained that Fred had most likely reacted to the shock of seeing her for the first time in three years.

By the time she left the restaurant, Hermione had collected herself and was able to get on with the afternoon. When Fred walked into her shop and immediately left, again, she was angry. She couldn’t understand what she had done so wrong that he wouldn’t even utter one word to her. 

As the final customer left the shop, Hermione started wiping down the little cafe area. She was placing the leftover pastries into a box to take to a local Muggle soup kitchen when the bell above the door dinged. 

“Sorry, I’m just closing up for the evening. We’ll reopen…” She trailed off when she finally looked up and saw Fred standing in the doorway. Without a second thought, she grabbed a muffin and hurled it at him. Not expecting a pastry assault, Fred was slow to react and the muffin collided with his head, sending chunks and crumbs spraying all over him and the floor.

“Oi!” He picked a muffin chunk off his shoulder and popped it in his mouth. He chewed for a moment and then said, “Banana nut is good but I like lemon poppyseed more.”

Hermione picked up her last lemon poppyseed muffin and chucked it at the infuriating redhead. He was ready this time and easily caught it. He took a bite and nodded in approval. “I’d prefer if you poured my coffee instead of throwing that at me.”

“What do you want, you arrogant prat?” Hermione spat, boxing up the final pastries. 

“I was hoping that maybe we could talk, without me getting called an arrogant prat,” Fred answered, using his wand to siphon up the crumbs from his sweater and the floor. 

“And without you running away from me?”

“And without me running away,” Fred said, taking a seat on one of the oversized leather chairs. 

Hermione narrowed her eyes and considered kicking him out but ultimately decided against it. Instead, she poured two coffees and carried them over with a tray of cream and sugar. The two prepared their drinks in silence, only the soft clinking of spoons on ceramic filling the air.

“So, are you going to tell me why you ignored me for the past three years?” Hermione asked. 

Fred scowled and said, “Are you going to tell me why you ran off without saying goodbye?”

“I did tell you why! I put everything in the note I left for you at the hospital!”

“What note? I never got a note from you.”

“I came to the hospital but the woman at the main desk wouldn’t let me into your room. She said you were in with a physical therapist. I waited as long as I could. I wanted to see you and tell you what was happening and say goodbye.” Hermione swallowed the lump forming in her throat and fought back the impending tears. “When I couldn’t wait any longer, I wrote a note and left it at the main desk to get delivered to you.”

“I never got a note in the hospital.”

“I don’t know why. The receptionist gave me an envelope and I wrote your name and room number on it.”

“Fine, we’ll put that down as a clerical error,’ Fred said dismissively. Before Hermione could say anything else about it, he asked, “But why didn’t you contact me after that? Harry, Ginny, and even Ron were telling me about these letters they kept receiving from you. You couldn’t take time out of your busy schedule to drop me a line saying ‘Hey, you’re a good snog but let’s just be friends’?”

Hermione let the tears flow as she cried, “How callous do you think I am? I wrote to you every week, for almost an entire year! Every day I’d wake up and hope that that would be the day I finally heard back from you. I stopped writing when Ginny finally told me you were seeing someone.”

Fred didn’t say anything right away. He sat on the edge of the chair, staring into his coffee cup. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded strained and choked up. “I never got a letter.”

“You’re going to try and tell me you didn’t get a single one of my letters?”

“Why would I lie to you?” he cried, looking up at her. “I kept waiting for my letter, my reassurance that you were at least okay, even if you didn’t feel anything beyond friendship for me!”

“Did it ever once cross your mind to write to me?”

“I had no idea where the hell you were!”

“But there were several people you could have asked! Instead, you jumped to conclusions and wrote me off.”

Fred bowed his head. She knew she had struck a nerve. “I felt stupid,” he muttered. “I felt dumb for thinking for that a girl like you would actually want a guy like me. I was a reckless, stubborn, broken mess of a human being. What woman in her right mind would’ve wanted to be shackled to that?”

“I never saw you as a broken mess,” Hermione said quietly. 

“Yeah, well,” Fred let out a sigh and slumped back in his chair. “I may have battled a period of depression during my recovery.”

“I wish I could have been here to help you with it,” she whispered.

Fred’s head turned to look at her and he gave her a sad smile. “Me too.”

Hermione curled her legs up under her and the pair silently finished their drinks. Hermione followed Fred’s gaze around the remodeled shop. It hadn’t taken long to fix up. All the shelves were in good condition. The main task had been going through the inventory and organizing it. The former owner hadn’t paid much mind to where customers set books so it wasn’t out of the norm to find dragon breeding manuals stacked with goblin folklore. 

“You did a nice job fixing the place up. How long have you been back in England?” Fred asked.

“About two weeks. I kept my return quiet because I didn’t really feel like being hounded by The Prophet until I had everything sorted and life wasn’t so crazy.” Hermione took his coffee mug and walked back to the cafe counter. “My parents were deemed fully cured at the end of summer. We then spent a few weeks debating on what they should do.”

“What do you mean?”

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering, “They weren’t sure about whether or not they wanted to come back to England. They had already set up a successful dental office in Sydney and weren’t keen on the idea of starting from scratch again.”

“But they eventually came around to it, right?”

Fresh tears slid down her cheeks as she shook her head and let out a choked sob.

“Oh, Hermione.” Fred rushed over and pulled her into a hug. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, holding her tight.

Hermione took a minute to let herself cry into his chest. Once she composed herself, she stepped back and swiped the tears from her cheeks. “They came back with me to take care of selling the house and getting a few things they had left behind. But they decided it was best for them to stay in Australia, even after I said I was moving back here. We’ve been staying with my aunt, but they leave this coming weekend and I’ll be shacked up in a hotel until the flat upstairs is ready to move into.” With a defeated shrug and a sigh, she said, “I went through three years of hell trying to heal them and bring them home only to have them not want to come home. I understand their decision, but it still hurts.”

“Of course it hurts,” Fred said, gently rubbing her arm. “At least they know who you are and I’m sure you’ll visit each other often.” Hermione nodded and Fred let out a chuckle. “You must have hit them with a hell of a memory charm.”

“The healers were quite impressed,” she laughed through a sniffle. 

“I’m sorry I was such an arse earlier. I wasn’t expecting to see you, let alone find out you had moved in next door to me. But I am glad you decided to come back. While surprising, it’s nice to see your face again.”

“It’s nice to see your face again, too. And I want you to know I’m glad you found someone that makes you happy. I’m excited to meet Bethany,” Hermione said, putting on a brave smile to cover up the fact that she was lying and dying a little inside. She was happy that Fred was happy. It didn’t mean that she wasn’t jealous of the fact that it was another woman making him happy. 

“She’s working odd shifts at St. Mungo’s right now but as soon as her schedule evens out, we’ll pop ‘round.” Fred glanced up and frowned. “How long are you going to be stuck in a hotel before your flat is ready?”

“Um, I’m hoping a week, but it’ll probably be more like two. I should definitely be in by the holidays.”

“I have an empty room if you’d like to save some money.”

“Oh, thanks but I doubt your girlfriend would be thrilled to know you moved another woman into your flat,” Hermione replied.

“It’ll be fine. It’s not like we don’t have her flat to go to if privacy is needed. And it’s only for two weeks, not forever.”

“She doesn’t live with you?” Hermione asked suspiciously.

“No. Should she?”

“It’s just, I thought...nevermind.” Hermione chewed her bottom lip and gave the offer quick consideration. It would be nice not having to pay out a fortune for a hotel stay. Her Aunt Theresa had said she could stay with her longer but Hermione didn’t want to stay there without the buffer of her parents. Plus, Aunt Theresa had three ill-behaved dachshunds, and Hermione’s patience with them was waning. 

“If you’re positive that it won’t cause trouble, then yes, I will happily take your extra room. It would be an immense help,” Hermione said. 

“Great! I’ll get it fixed up tonight, bring you a key tomorrow, and you can move in whenever you want.”

“Thank you, Fred. I really appreciate it.” Hermione reached up and gave him a hug, trying her damndest not to think about how nice and perfect it felt to have his arms around her. 

“No problem, roomie.” Fred patted her back and pulled away. He caught her hand as she was putting her arms down and smirked. “I see George gave you one of our Reflection Rings.”

Hermione glanced at the now vivid pink stone of her ring. “Oh, yeah. A clever bit of magic these are. I forget what pink means though.”

“Pink is umm...lustful.”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open and she watched as the pink color drained from the ring and flooded her cheeks. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say that yellow is mortally embarrassed.”

“I wouldn’t get that dramatic.”

 _‘Says the man who isn’t about to move in with the unavailable subject of their lustful thoughts,’_ Hermione thought, biting her bottom lip.

Fred gave her shoulder a gentle shake and smiled. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to give you a key and get another muffin, okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll actually put it on a plate for you.”

“Sounds great. Good-night Hermione.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey there, roomie,” Fred called as Hermione entered the shop with a bag slung over her shoulder and a suitcase rolling behind her. “If you’ll lock the door behind you, I will show you to your quarters.”

“You make it sound so posh,” Hermione laughed as she locked the door and secured the deadbolt.

“You’ll find nothing less than ultimate luxury at Casa de Fred. Follow me, m’lady,” he said, taking the suitcase and walking towards the backroom.

Hermione adjusted the bag on her shoulder and followed Fred through the curtain, to the stockroom. He unlocked a door and revealed the staircase to his flat.

“Were you able to see your parents off this morning?” Fred asked as they climbed the stairs.

“Yes. Luckily they had an early morning flight so I was able to take them to the airport and get back here in time to open the store. They want me to come to Australia for Easter.”

“Think you’ll go?” He opened the door to the flat and lit the lamps with a flick of his wand.

“No... Maybe? I don’t know. Easter feels so far away right now. We’ll see how I feel after the new year.”

“That makes sense.” Fred pointed to a small hallway to their right. “Your room is the door to the right and the bathroom is right across the hall. You’ll find fresh towels in your closet. The refrigerator is stocked with frozen waffles and pumpkin juice. Come and go as you please and help yourself to anything you fancy.”

“Thanks, Fred,” Hermione said. ‘ _ What about if the thing I fancy is my flatmate?’  _ she thought and then quickly shoved her left hand into her coat pocket, knowing that her Reflection Ring stone was glowing bright pink.

Fred chuckled. “Still have the ring on?”

“I can’t get the damn thing off!”

“I guess George didn’t show you the fine print on that item. It’s charmed to stay on for a month. 

Hermione’s eyes went wide. “A month!?”

Fred held his smirk for almost a full second before he broke and started laughing hysterically. He shook his head and tried to speak but was only able to get out breathless wheezing.

“Arse,” Hermione muttered, grabbing her suitcase from him and dragging it to the spare bedroom.

“I’m sorry,” Fred breathed, hurrying after her. “A little cooking oil should help it slide off.”

“I’ll give it a go,” Hermione said, giving him her best evil look. She looked down at the stone and the pink had darkened to ruby red. That made sense. She was thinking about getting the ring off and shoving it where the sun doesn’t shine. 

The stone immediately changed back to pink

“Urg,” she muttered and slid the ring around so that the stone was face down. 

“Your thoughts cover an interesting spectrum,” Fred commented.

“Thank you for that analysis. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to change so, shoo,” she said, waving her hand towards the door.

“Alright, alright. I was going to throw some leftover chicken into a salad. Would you like some?”

“Sure. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Fred left and as soon as the door shut behind him, Hermione flopped down on the bed and let out a groan. She really had to get that damn ring off! Lifting her hands up, she pulled on the ring until it cut into her skin. 

The first few days of wearing it, she hadn’t really noticed it. She wasn’t around Fred and had no reason to monitor her thoughts. Then she realized the previous night that she would be spending a portion of her day, every day, with him and desperately tried to pry it from her finger. The thing wouldn’t budge. Once he went to bed, she’d find the cooking oil and pour the whole damn bottle on over her hand if it meant that she’d be free of the traitorous band. She couldn’t spend another two weeks with Fred knowing she was having lustful thoughts.

Rolling off the bed, Hermione opened her suitcase and pulled out a pair of purple lounge pants and an Australia Zoo t-shirt. As she was pulling her curls up into a messy bun, she heard the front door open and a high-pitched, feminine voice call out, “Freddie?”

Hermione cringed at the childish nickname. The only person she had ever heard use it was George. Not even Molly on her sappiest of days called him Freddie. Steeling herself and making sure the Reflection Ring’s stone was still hidden from view, she opened her door and slowly made her way to the kitchen. 

Bethany stood beside Fred, with her head on his shoulder, as he sliced up a tomato. “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight. Are you hungry?” Fred asked, dropping the tomato slices onto a bed of lettuce and starting on a cucumber.

“No, thanks, sweetie. I had an early dinner at the hospital,” Bethany answered before she stole a cucumber slice from the cutting board. 

“Well, there’s more than enough if you change your mind.”

“Why are you making so much anyway? Are George and Ang coming over?” Bethany asked. 

“No. Hermione is here tonight,” Fred answered. He kissed the top of Bethany’s head before turning to take a container from the fridge.

“Hello,” Hermione said, breaking her silent spying and giving them a little wave.

“Ah, there she is. Bethany, this is Hermione. Hermione, this is Bethany,” Fred introduced as he dumped chicken into the bowl and began to mix it up into the veggies. “I’m so glad you two finally get to meet.”

“Nice to meet you, Herminee,” Bethany said, reaching out to shake Hermione’s hand, her lips curving up into an overly sweet smile.

Fuck, it was Krum all over again.

“Her-my-OH-nee,” she corrected, shaking Bethany’s hand. She smiled up at her and had the sudden feeling that she had met Bethany before. Tall, blonde, blue eyes… In her mind, Hermione replaced the cashmere sweater with lime green robes and it clicked into place. “I remember you,” she blurted out.

“Sorry?” Bethany said, a look of fear quickly rolling over her face before the saccharine smile was back in place.

“You work at St. Mungos. You were Fred’s physical therapist.”

Before Bethany could answer, Fred said, “Good memory. Bethany here helped get me back on my feet. After I was discharged, we kept running into each other and the rest, as they say, is history.” He kissed her cheek as he walked past and put the salad on the table.

“I’m glad I made such a lasting impression. Unfortunately, I meet so many people each day I must say I can’t remember our meeting, Hermohnee.”

Hermione smiled and said, “Her-MY-oh-nee. And of course, I wouldn’t have expected you to.” She was pretty sure that the gemstone pressed into her clenched palm couldn’t decide if it should be green or red at that very moment. 

Hermione didn’t say anything else until after dinner. The conversation was very one-sided, with Bethany chattering away about each and every patient she had seen that day and whether or not she got along with them. She spoke directly to Hermione one time and again, managed to mispronounce her name. People mispronouncing her name was nothing new. She could concede that, on paper, the moniker appeared confusing. But she usually only had to correct them once. With Bethany, it felt like she was purposefully butchering Hermione’s name. 

After dinner, she took the dishes to the sink and went to the bathroom to wash up. When she returned, Fred was in the kitchen, washing dishes, and Bethany was opening the door to Hermione’s room.

“Excuse me,” Hermione called and Bethany froze with her hand on the doorknob. “Did you need something”

Bethany closed the door and turned to Hermione with a sweet, almost devious, smile on her face. “No, I was just looking for you.”

“You found me. What can I do for you?”

“I just want to talk. Come, sit down and tell me about yourself.” Bethany pulled Hermione into the living room and sat down on the couch. “Fred never talks about you much. I feel like I know nothing about you.”

Hermione felt as though she would prefer to keep it that way, but held her tongue and sat down opposite Bethany. She then proceeded to field every mundane question the woman asked, ranging from her Muggle upbringing to her best subjects at Hogwarts.

“What scores did you get on your N.E.W.Ts?” Bethany asked.

Before Hermione answered, Fred finally joined them and said, “Hermione is part of the ‘No N.E.W.Ts Club’ with me and George.”

“I most certainly am not,” Hermione said. “I may not have had a proper seventh year, but I did complete my exams through correspondence.”

“What happened to your seventh year?” Bethany asked in a condescending tone.

Both Hermione and Fred looked at her bemusedly. Hermione finally answered, “I was a little preoccupied with helping take down Lord Voldemort.” Bethany cringed at the name and Hermione felt slightly amused. Any other time, she was understanding when people recoiled at the name but it felt as though Bethany was intentionally being ignorant so Hermione’s sympathy only extended so far. “Hogwarts wasn’t exactly a welcoming place for Muggle-borns at that time, so I spent the year helping Harry.”

“I completely forgot that would have been your seventh year. It’s a shame. I loved my seventh year. Didn’t you love yours, Fred?”

Hermione raised her eyebrows and couldn’t help but laugh. Did this woman not know her boyfriend at all? Luckily, Fred laughed also and shook his head. “That was the Umbridge year. No one enjoyed that year.”

“Unless they were in Slytherin,” Hermione added.

“I was in Slytherin,” Bethany replied, her sweet smile faltering and eyes narrowing at Hermione. 

“You don’t say?” Hermione stood up, deciding that was a good place to end their ‘chat’. “I’m off to bed. Goodnight.”

“G’night, Hermione,” Fred said while Bethany said nothing.

Ever since the war ended, Hermione had become an extremely light sleeper. It didn’t take much at all to wake her from a deep slumber. While at her aunt’s house, she slept horribly because there was always a dachshund roaming around the house, with dog tags clinking together and nails clicking on the hardwood. It was one of the reasons she looked forward to living in Diagon Alley. By bedtime, everything was still and silent.

So, when in the dead of night Hermione was woken by the sound of her door opening, her fight or flight instinct took over. Without a second thought, she grabbed her wand from the nightstand and cast a silent  _ Stupefy _ in the direction of the sound. The result was a meager squeak and thud as the intruder fell to the floor. 

As Hermione lit the lamps in her room, the sudden light in the hallway flooded her room and revealed Bethany lying motionless on the floor.

“What the hell is going on?” Fred asked, appearing in the doorway and looking down at his stunned girlfriend.

“I heard someone sneaking into my room,” Hermione said. She glared down at Bethany for a second before lifting the spell.

Bethany scrambled to her feet and shrieked, “What the hell was that for?”

“Sorry. Instinct kicked in,” Hermione answered, not feeling apologetic in the least.

“Your instinct is to start throwing out jinxes without knowing who you’re jinxing?” Bethany asked warily, moving to Fred’s side and wrapping herself around his arm.

“You try getting abducted by Snatchers and then tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. You’d cast first and ask questions later, too,” Hermione practically growled, jumping to her feet. “Speaking of questions, why were  _ you _ sneaking into my room in the middle of the night?”

“I’m wondering the same thing,” Fred said, looking expectantly at Bethany.

“I was sleepwalking,” Bethany answered quickly. “I didn’t even know I was coming into your room. 

“Sleepwalking?” Hermione asked, unconvinced.

“I didn’t know you were a sleepwalker,” Fred said, looking at Bethany confusedly.

“It’s not common but it’s happened before,” Bethany mumbled before turning and quickly exiting the room.

Hermione looked at Fred in disbelief. He simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “Sorry, ‘Mione. I wasn't aware of this quirk. Are you okay?”

‘ _ Quirk my arse _ ,’ Hermione thought, but said, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good night,” he said with a wave before leaving the room and shutting the door. Before climbing back into bed, Hermione cast a strong locking spell, ensuring that anymore ‘sleepwalking’ adventures didn’t involve her. 

When she woke the next morning, Hermione took her time getting ready and waited until she heard Fred and Bethany leave. As soon as the front door clicked shut, she hurried to Fred’s mess of a desk and scrawled a quick message-  _ Make up an excuse and come upstairs, please. -HG _ . 

“It’s just going to George, down in the shop,” Hermione said as Loki secured her letter in his beak. The owl soared out the window and never came back. But it wasn’t long before she heard footsteps on the stairs and a few seconds later George let himself into the flat.

“How can I help you, Miss Granger?” He asked, strolling towards her. “And before you say anything, Angelina shut down my idea of an open marriage long ago.”

“Always the modest one, aren’t you?”

“I do try. Anyway, what’s up? Why couldn’t you come down and get me?”

Hermione frowned. “I didn’t want Fred to come along and hear the conversation that’s about to take place.” George nodded and rested his hip against the back of the couch. “I finally got to meet Bethany last night.”

“Oh.” He smirked and asked, “What did you think?”

“Umm…”

“You can be honest. I won’t tell Fred.”

“Can’t say my first impression was a good one,” Hermione admitted. “And, look, that’s fine. I don’t think she thought much of me either.”

“Your ring says you don’t really think things are fine.”

She glanced down at her hand and the stone was emerald green. “Fucking little…” she muttered, trying to wrench the ring from her finger once more. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. My jealous thoughts count for nothing right now. The reason I asked you up here is to see if you could put a nice, strong locking spell on my room here. I’m sure you have something pretty secure in place to keep your ideas and recipes out of competitors' hands.”

George laughed and pushed away from the couch. “I can help you with that. Why is the extra security needed? Are you hiding the crown jewels?”

“The way Bethany was trying to get into there yesterday, I’m starting to think maybe I am.” Hermione quickly filled George in on the previous night’s events while he wove a series of spells around the doorframe. 

“You know, now that you say something, I remember catching her in here several times before I fully moved out. Put your hand on the doorknob.” 

Hermione did as instructed and George cast one last spell on the door. As he did, Hermione could feel her magic mingling with the spell and the doorknob grew warm in her palm.

“There you go. It should open only for you now.”

“And if something one else tries?” Hermione asked, giving George a skeptical look.

“They’ll just encounter a locked door. What did you think would happen?”

“I’m never quite sure with you two,” Hermione replied, opening the door and grabbing her purse. “I don’t want to electrocute her or anything. I just don’t want her snooping through my stuff.”

“Should you need her electrocuted anytime in the future, I can help you with that, too,” George assured. 

* * *

  
  


Fred had never been more thankful to see the end of a week. He had hoped it would have brought him the chance to catch up with Hermione and for her and Bethany to maybe bond, but he had been very wrong on both counts. Bethany had had a week of early shifts at the hospital, which meant she had stayed at his flat every night. As for any bonding between her and Hermione, nothing of that sort had come to fruition. Each evening was spent with a tense dinner and then Hermione quickly retreating to her room afterward. 

And to make matters even more awkward for him, Bethany insisted on asking him about every little part of his and Hermione’s friendship and very brief relationship.

“I told you last night, there wasn’t really an actual relationship,” Fred said with an irritated sigh.

“But would there have been one, had she not moved to Australia? Or kept in better contact when she did?” Bethany needled.

“I don’t know, Beth. I don’t live my life in hypotheticals.” He stripped off his t-shirt and flopped onto the bed. “We kissed, admitted we felt more than friendship, and then the next day she was gone. It’s not a lot to base predictions on.”

Fred of course didn’t tell her that he had indeed hoped more would come from the kiss. When Ron had told him that Hermione had suddenly left for Australia, his heart had been broken. He held out hope for so many months that she would write to him and tell him that she thought about him as much as he thought about her, but was ultimately left with nothing. 

“It feels like she was hoping for more,” Bethany said with a pout. “She doesn’t seem to like me much.”

“Well, you haven’t exactly been warm and fuzzy with her. Kill her with kindness and I’m sure she’ll open up.” He gave her a loud kiss on the cheek and grinned when she wasn’t able to hold back a smile. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

On Friday, Fred received a note from Bethany saying she would be pulling a double shift and wouldn’t see him until later that evening. He decided to finally seize his night of catching up with Hermione and had Chinese takeaway ready when she closed up her shop. 

“This is a nice surprise,” Hermione said when she came in. Fred watched her take a deep breath and smiled when she sighed, “It smells so good. Let me change and then we can dig in.”

Two minutes later, they were filling their plates with lo mein, chicken fried rice, pork dumplings, Kung Pao chicken, and beef and broccoli. Fred summoned two Butterbeers from the fridge and started to tuck into his food.

“So glad I don’t have to open the shop until noon tomorrow,” Hermione said, between bites of dumpling. “I’m not going to be able to move after all of this.”

“How’re the renovations on your flat coming along?” Fred asked.

“According to the woman in charge, everything is on track. I should be good to move in on Wednesday. If it’s okay with you, though, I’d like to wait until Saturday. That way I’ll have coverage at the shop and my aunt will be home so I can get all of my stuff from her shed.”

“Of course. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” Fred looked over at her and smiled. “It’s been nice having you around. I’m sorry we haven’t gotten much of a chance to catch up until now.”

“We’ve both been busy,” Hermione said, giving her hand a nonchalant wave. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the gem of her Reflection Ring glowing green. He didn’t bring attention to it but couldn’t help wondering what the jealous thoughts were about. “It’s been nice getting to know Bethany. Ron and Harry never said much about her in their letters.”

Throwing caution to the wind, Fred blurted out, “Should we talk about what happened before you left?”

Hermione looked at him. She was silent and had a slightly stunned expression on her face. The stone on her ring instantly dulled grey. Glancing down at her plate, she poked at a bit of broccoli with her chopsticks and answered, “We can if you’d like. I don’t know if there’s really anything to talk about, though.”

“I feel like there was a lot left unsaid after you left.”

“Does any of that matter now?”

“It feels like it does,” he whispered. “Or at least should.” 

“I don’t know what to tell you that I haven’t written in dozens of letters.” Hermione took a few more bites of food, slowly chewing, before leaning back in her chair and letting out a sigh. “I really liked you, Fred. Our kiss wasn’t just a kiss to me. But--”

“It wasn’t just a kiss to me, either,” Fred said quickly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. I want you to know it meant something to me, too.”

“But it can’t mean anything now,” Hermione quietly finished. “I’m done dwelling on what could’ve or might’ve been. You’re with Bethany and I really am happy that you found someone that you love and makes you happy.” She glanced down at her hand and glared at the green stone. “Despite what this bloody ring says, all I want is for you to be happy. Even if it’s not with me.”

Fred reached over and covered her hand with his, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you, Hermione.”

“You’re welcome, Fred.”

The rest of the meal was pleasant enough, though tinged with some awkwardness. Hermione explained why the process of getting her parents’ memories back was more difficult than anyone had expected. Fred filled her in on his rehabilitation struggles and how some days were still proving to be difficult.

“It got to a point where I didn’t want to even try getting out of the hospital bed. I’m pretty sure I was on the cusp of a pain potion addiction,” Fred said with a grimace, his chest tightening with the memories.

“What kept you from completely falling over that edge?” Hermione asked.

“My Healer came in one day and asked what color wheelchair I preferred. Told me to think carefully because it’d be with me for the rest of my life.” Fred smiled at Hermione’s gobsmacked look. “Yeah, probably not the best of bedside manners but it hammered the point home. I pulled myself together and made sure I achieved a new goal with every therapy session. Once I got myself into a good mindset, I was able to get out of the hospital within a month.”

“I remember Ron writing to me to say you were finally going home and I was so proud of you. I'm glad you kept fighting.” Hermione stood up and started gathering the empty plates. “How has it been lately?”

“Great for the most part. There are odd days where I wake up and the muscles are tight and aching, but I have a series of stretches that are good at working out the kinks and getting me moving like a semi-normal human being and not a zombie.” As she set the dishes to wash, Fred strode over and handed her a wrapped fortune cookie. “The meal isn’t complete until we’ve read our fortunes.”

“Can’t forget that,” Hermione said with a chuckle. She tore off the plastic and cracked her cookie in half. Popping one half into her mouth, she pulled out the strip of paper and let out a hum of amusement. “True love will find you this Christmas,” she read. “What about yours?”

Hermione ate the last of her cookie as Fred broke open his. He let out a laugh and read, “True love will find you this Christmas. They mustn’t have mixed up their fortunes very well at the factory.”

Hermione looked aghast. “How can you be so insulting. I’m sure Trelawney worked really hard on these!” She giggled and stuffed her fortune into her pocket. “Now, eat your cookie or it won’t come true.”

Deciding not to remind her that he had already found love, Fred stuffed the cookie pieces into his mouth and went about putting away the leftovers.

“I’ll be right back,” Hermione said as she headed to her bedroom.

“Okay.”

As he was wiping down the table a scream from Hermione’s room made him drop the cloth and dart back the hallway. When he reached her room, he found Hermione on the floor clutching her knee.

“What happened?” Fred asked, kneeling down beside her. 

“There’s a loose floorboard under the rug. I stepped on it and tripped.”

Fred glanced at the red rug and sure enough, a floorboard was jutting up from underneath. “Are you okay?” he asked. Hermione winced and pulled up the leg of her pants. A fresh bruise was spreading over her knee. “Ouch. Let me go get some bruise paste.” 

He hurried to the bathroom and grabbed the paste from the medicine cabinet. When he returned, Hermione had the rug thrown back but the floorboard was still out of place. “Don’t worry about the floor. I’ll fix that up.”

Hermione pulled away when he knelt back down. He was taken aback to see tears streaming down her cheeks. Before he could ask if she needed to go to St. Mungo’s, she sobbed, “How could you do this to me?”

“What are you talking about? It’s not like I set the loose floorboard as a booby trap. I--”

“If you didn’t feel the same way about me, you could have just told me. You didn’t have to lie to me!” She shoved a stack of papers into his chest and pushed herself to her feet.

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

Hermione didn’t answer. She started waving her wand and sending her clothes flying into her suitcase. Fred looked down and took a closer look at the papers she had given him. They actually weren’t papers but envelopes that had been addressed to him. Each and every one of them had been opened. 

“What are these? Where did you get them?”

“You can stop playing dumb, Fred. I don’t know why you think I need to be coddled,” Hermione spat as she cinched up her shoulder bag. “I can handle the fact that you didn’t feel the same--”

“Hermione, that’s not true at all!”

“But,” she shouted over him, “I don’t know why you couldn’t just tell me? Why did you ignore and hide my letters, like they didn’t exist? Like  _ I _ didn’t exist!”

“Hermione--”

“I’m done, Fred. Whatever this is or was, I’m done with it.”

Hermione grabbed her suitcase and swept from the room. The front door slammed shut and Fred sunk down onto the bed. He flipped through the stack of letters on his lap, his anger growing with each one. True to her word, Hermione had written him a letter every week. The last one was dated a few days past the one year mark of her leaving. Fred had just started dating Bethany around that time.

How had he never seen a single one of them? How did they end up under a floorboard of his spare room? It was then that Fred was hit with the realization that it hadn’t always been a spare room and it felt like a boulder had been dropped into the pit of his stomach. Why would George do this to him?

Gathering the letters back into a pile, Fred stomped to his floo and called out his destination. When he stepped out into his brother’s flat, he found Angelina spread out on the couch, flipping through a magazine.

“Where’s George?” he growled, causing Angelina to let out a yelp of surprise. 

“And a good evening to you, too, brother,” George greeted, popping his head in from the kitchen. “To what do we owe your chipper mood?”

“Why would you keep these from me?” Fred asked, his voice and composure strained.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve never kept anything from you.” George moved to Fred’s side and looked down at the stack of letters he was clutching so hard his knuckles had turned white. “May I?”

Fred released his hold and George frowned as he leafed through the envelopes. “I’ve never seen these before, I swear, Fred. Where did you find them?”

“Under a loose floorboard, in your old bedroom.”

“So you just assumed I would hide your mail from you because I...why? Why would I keep Hermione’s letters from you? Honestly, mate, I’m trying really hard not to be mortally insulted here.”

“Who else would have done it? Who else  _ could _ have done it?” Fred cried. “I know owls are smart but come on.”

“Fred, are you serious right now? Who the hell--”

George was interrupted when his wife came up behind him and tapped his shoulder. George bit his bottom lip, cutting off his tirade. Angelina gave her husband a reassuring smile before turning to Fred.

“I know it’s hard to admit, but who else had access and motive to keep them from you?” Angelina said gently.

“I understand what you’re getting at but I had only just started seeing Bethany by the time the last letter arrived. How could she have done it? It doesn’t make sense,” Fred argued.

“But your family and friends keeping them from you does?” Angelina asked. She frowned and reached up to rub Fred’s shoulder. “I can assure you, George played no part in this. Though, I’m pretty sure you already knew that.”

“But Bethany would never do that.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes…” His answer wasn’t full of confidence though.

Angelina frowned and pulled Fred into a hug.

Fred let his head drop onto her shoulder. “I don’t understand,” he said, his words muffled by her sweater.

“There’s only one person who’s going to be able to give you answers,” George said softly, clapping his twin on the back. “I can probably get you some Veritaserum if you want to slip some into her tea.”

Fred let go of Angelina and grabbed his brother to give him a tight hug. “Thanks, but I think I’ll take a raincheck on that for now.”

“You know where to find me if you need anything,” George said, patting Fred’s shoulder before letting him go and stepping back.

Fred nodded and cleared his throat. “Sorry for barging in like that. I’m going to go back home and wait for Bethany.”

“Good luck, mate.”


	3. Chapter 3

Fred was sitting on the couch, reading through a letter, when Bethany finally arrived just after nine o’clock. She called out her usual chirpy greeting but Fred didn’t reply. His lack of response didn’t appear to phase her as she flounced over and kissed his cheek. 

“What are you reading, sweetheart?” Bethany asked, sitting down beside him. When Fred held up the stack of envelopes, her face fell and paled by two shades. “How did you find those?” she whispered.

“I thank you for not making me drag out a long interrogation process,” Fred said, placing the letters on the coffee table. He had been prepared to listen to a myriad of denials and excuses. “Hermione found them today after tripping over the loose floorboard they were hidden beneath. As you can imagine, she wasn’t at all pleased with me after I had sworn to her several times that I never received her letters.” He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what I’m more confused about at the moment- the how or the why. Would you care to explain?”

“Does it really matter? You told me this week that all of that was in the past.” She placed her hand on his leg and huffed when he pulled away. “Really, Fred. We’ve been together for two years. We’re in love. Why should things that happened three years ago affect that?”

Fred pursed his lips, using every bit of inner strength he had not to completely lose his temper. “All of these letters are dated a full year before we started seeing each other.” He held up one envelope that only had his name and the number 507 written on it. “This one wasn’t even sent. It was left at the hospital.” Bethany didn’t answer. She crossed her arms and stared him down as if challenging him to continue. His fuse ran out and he jumped up from the couch, shouting, “Why, Bethany?!”

His outburst made her flinch and recoil against the couch. A second later she stood up and said, “Fine, you want to know why? I did it because I could. I liked you from the moment I met you. Of course, I couldn’t do anything while you were my patient so I was waiting for the day you were discharged to ask you out. But then I saw you kissing  _ her  _ and it wasn’t fair! She didn’t deserve to be with you.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” Fred said through clenched teeth.

Ignoring his comment, Bethany continued. “I was lucky enough to intercept that letter the day she left. When I read it, I saw my opportunity and took it. With her gone, I was sure you would forget all about that silly kiss by the time you were out of the hospital and I could finally be with you. A few ‘coincidental’ meetings and we came together like we were meant to.”

“Right…” Fred was struggling to wrap his head around all the information that Bethany was freely giving up. “How did you get the other letters?”

“Oh, I have a friend that works in the international owl post department. I had her put Hermione’s name on the list of flagged names. Everything she sent got held back for inspection. Sienna would give me any letters addressed to you and then send along everything else as normal.” Bethany waved her hand as if that was something everyone did.

“So, on top of lying to me and stalking me, you also committed mail fraud?”

“Fred, you make it sound so serious. I--”

“It is serious!” Fred cried. “How do you not see that nothing about what you’ve told me is something a normal, rational person would do?! I mean, after all that, you then hid the letters in my flat? What was the sense in that?”

“If you found them at my place, you’d know it was me. I figured if you ever found them here, you’d blame George.”

“You not only jeopardized my friendship with Hermione but felt it was okay to do the same with George? My own fucking brother?” He let out a morose laugh and shook his head. “Lucky for me he is very patient and forgiving.”

“Look, Fred, I’m sorry. It was stupid and I never should have done it. Can we move on?” Bethany asked in exasperation.

“You’re fucking joking, right?” She went to answer but Fred cut her off. “No, we cannot just ‘move on’. The last two years have been based on lies and manipulation. Do you think I’ll ever be able to trust another thing you say?”

Bethany stared at him, her eyes glassy and breathing quickening. “You don’t mean that,” she whispered.

“I do.”

“Fred--”

“Get out of my house and out of my life.”

Fred grabbed the letters and pointed to the door. 

Bethany stood, gobsmacked. “If we just sit down and talk about this--are you really throwing away our relationship--”

“I’m  _ ending _ our relationship because it’s been nothing but a string of lies!”

“This doesn’t change who I am! I’m still the same person you fell in love with!”

Fred shook his head. “I know. But I’m finally seeing the person you really are and I don’t like her.”

Bethany opened her mouth to speak then quickly closed it again. Then, barely above a whisper, he heard her beg, “Please, Fred.”

“Goodbye, Bethany.”

Without another word, Bethany hung her head and slowly left the flat. Blowing out a shuddering breath, Fred collapsed back onto the sofa with a million thoughts running through his mind.  _ Will this be the last I hear from Bethany? How did I get so lucky to have George as a brother? _ Most importantly was,  _ Are things with Hermione completely irreparable? _

* * *

After leaving Fred’s flat, Hermione wasn’t sure where she should go. In desperate hope, she went to the flat above her own shop to see if it was livable. It was not. There were several holes in the ceiling where the roof was being patched. They were covered with tarps charmed to keep out rain and snow but an unbearable draft still seeped through. 

She knew there were plenty of empty rooms at The Burrow and Molly and Arthur would happily put her up for a week, with three-course meals included. But staying at The Burrow would also include questioning from Molly as to why she suddenly up and left Fred’s. Hermione was pissed at Fred but not to the point that she wanted to send his mother after him. 

In the end, she opted for Harry and Ginny’s house. She knew Ginny would ask questions but also knew her best friend wouldn’t make it her business unless Hermione explicitly asked. 

After explaining the situation over cups of tea, Ginny laid her head on Hermione’s shoulder and said, “I’m sorry, Hermione.”

“Why do you think he did that?” Hermione asked, swirling the dregs of her tea around the bottom of the cup.

“At the risk of sounding bias, maybe Fred really knew nothing about the letters,” Ginny suggested. She stood and took Hermione’s mug. “Refill?”

“No, thanks.” Hermione sighed and dropped her head into her hands. “If he didn’t know about the letters, then how did they get there? I don’t believe George would have kept them hidden from him.”

“I don’t think so, either. You did say you and Bethany weren’t exactly warming up to each other though.”

“I sent all those before she was even in the picture. Didn’t I?” Ginny nodded and Hermione shook her head. “Occam's Razor points to the logical answer being Fred.”

“I don’t know who Occam is or why you would trust his razor for answers,” Ginny said, scrunching her face in bemusement. “That’s almost as barmy as Americans trusting rodents to predict the weather.”

Hermione laughed and shook her head. “Occam's Razor is the theory that when given two explanations for something, the simpler one is often the correct one.”

“That might work in the Muggle world but nothing is ever simple in the Wizarding World.”

Hermione let out a hum in agreement. “I’m going to give things a day to cool off and then maybe chat with George.” She stood and stretched, letting a yawn escape. “Thanks for letting me stay with you guys.”

“Of course. Harry will be happy to see you in the morning.”

“If he can even recognize me when he does. He’s been in such a haze every time I see him.” Hermione laughed.

Ginny groaned. “I can’t wait for him to be done with this string of midnight shifts.”

The following day went just as Hermione wanted. No redheads burst into the shop with dramatic apologies or explanations and she was able to put up holiday decorations between the intermittent surges of customers. 

In the evening, the contractors brought her up to the flat to show her the now hole-free ceiling and reassured her that the following day would be filled with the last few tasks, and then she would be free to move it. After that, she was able to get back to the Potter house in time to have dinner and chat with Harry before he left for another long evening with the Aurors. 

The day after that started out well. With Christmas just three short weeks away, the shop was steadily getting busier and busier. That morning she was working the floor, helping customers, while one of her assistants worked the check-out till and the other worked the coffee bar. She was planning on trying to catch George during his lunch break so they could talk.

As she was on the second floor, helping a customer find a book on magical tropical plants, a shriek from outside rent the air. Silence fell over the shop for a millisecond before the front window shattered and customers started screaming.

“Everyone get down and behind a shelf!” Hermione yelled, pushing her customer to the ground.

Pulling her wand out, Hermione hurried down the steps. She got to the first floor and a second window shattered, scattering glass at her feet. “Keep everyone at the back of the store,” she instructed her assistants. Crouching down and slowly moving along the wall Hermione paused and held her breath when another shriek sounded and the window she was beside broke apart.

“Shit,” she hissed as a shard of glass embedded in her cheek. She took another step and slid across the floor half a meter before regaining her balance. Looking down, she saw the shiny liquid a second before the putrid stench registered in her nostrils. Who the hell was assaulting her store with rotten eggs?!

“Bethany!” Fred's voice called out.

Oh…

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

The response he received was a banshee scream, which was immediately followed by the sound of retching.

Hermione threw the shop door open and marched out to see what was happening. She was met with the manic face of Bethany. Mascara-stained tear tracks ran down her cheeks and her usually perfect blonde hair was disheveled and sticking out at odd angles. 

The wreath that had been hung on her shop door was now burning at her feet and the fairy lights Hermione had strung up the day before were ripped down and laying in the middle of the street. Other customers and shopkeepers were looking on, their faces a mix of horror and confusion. 

“You!” Bethany screamed, pointing at Hermione. She reached into her bag and lobbed an object at Hermione, crying out, “You ruined everything!”

Hermione closed her eyes and reminded herself that  _ Cruciatus _ was still an illegal spell as rotten tomato bits seeped into her hair and ran down her face. 

Taking a painfully calm step forward, Hermione called back, “Can you stop throwing rotten food and talk to me like a normal person?”

“Bitch!”

“Bethany, stop!” 

Hermione glanced to the side and saw George had joined Fred outside their shop. Bethany chucked a second tomato and hit him square in the chest.

Bethany turned back to Hermione. “You couldn’t just stay away and leave us alone could you?” She screamed again and this time threw something grey that landed on Hermione’s boot.

Looking down, Hermione gagged and jumped back, kicking maggot-infested meat off her boot. Rotten eggs and spoiled tomatoes were one thing, but she drew the line at maggots. She raised her wand, the _I_ _ ncarcerous _ spell on the tip of her tongue 

“Enough!” Fred bellowed, cutting off her spell. A length of rope shot out, binding Bethany’s hands behind her back. Fred strode forward and caught her before she completely lost her balance and fell over. He lowered her to the ground and then cast an  _ aguamenti _ on the burning wreath.

“Are you okay?” Hermione startled and turned to find George at her side. “Shit, your face!”

Hermione reached up and winced when she hit the glass still in her cheek. “I was too close to the last window,” she explained.

“Let me go get a clean flannel and I’ll help you get it out.”

George hurried back into the Wheezes shop as Fred asked the now bustling crowd, “Did anyone call the DMLE?”

“Patrick sent word. They should be here any minute now,” an older lady at the apothecary answered.

Fred nodded and turned around. He caught Hermione’s gaze and hurried over to her. He went to pull out the glass but Hermione recoiled and Fred quickly dropped his hand. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s not your fault. I knew she didn’t like me. I didn’t think her hatred ran  _ this _ deep though.”

“Yeah, about that--” Fred started but was cut off by the pop of apparition. 

Three Aurors had arrived and were surveying the chaotic aftermath. The tall, lanky form of Ron stood out from the other two and when he saw Fred and Hermione, he started laughing. 

“Which one of you tied her up?” Ron asked.

“I did,” Fred answered. “We had already been pelted with rotten eggs, veg, and meat. Merlin knows what else she had in her bag.”

“There’s a whole container of spoiled milk in here,” they heard an Auror call, followed by a gag, as Bethany’s bag was searched. “And moldy bread.”

George returned and helped clean and heal Hermione’s cut. While she and Fred gave Ron their official statement, the third Auror helped customers safely exit the book shop. Hermione was surprised when Fred gave the reason behind Bethany’s attack as retaliation for him ending their relationship. She thought that made sense but was still confused as to why Bethany wreaked havoc on Hermione’s shop and not the twins’. 

“Sounds pretty straightforward,” Ron said, tucking away his quill and notebook. He turned to Hermione and said, “Last order of business is would you like to press charges for the damage done to your store?”

Hermione looked at the slumped form of Bethany and frowned. Looking back at Ron she shook her head. “No, I won’t press charges. I would like a restraining order though, please.”

“You’ll have a copy of that owled to you by the end of the day.” Ron gave them a smile and a salute then went to help the Aurors pull Bethany to her feet and apparated away. 

Hermione groaned. “I can’t believe I have to close down for repairs again.” 

She went to pick up the charred remains of her Christmas wreath and heard George say to Fred, “Take a long lunch, mate.”

“Thanks,” Fred muttered. He started vanishing the mess of food along the walkway. 

“Thank you, George,” Hermione called and George gave her a wave as he headed back into his store. When she turned back to her own shop, Fred had gathered up the fairy lights and restrung them on the awning. “Oh, thank you. I was worried they had been broken.”

“A few bulbs were busted but I mended them easily. Hold still and don’t look down,” he instructed. Hermione did as he said and felt a breeze flit across her leg. “There you go.”

“Maggot?”

“Maggot,” he affirmed with a grimace. 

Hermione shuddered and went to inspect the windows. “I think these are beyond magical repairs,” she sighed. “I’m sorry you two broke up but I don’t understand why she took it out on me?”

“I know why,” Fred said, dragging a hand through his hair. “Can we talk inside and I’ll give you a hand cleaning up?”

Hermione nodded and Fred followed her into the shop. “I’ll put a fresh pot of coffee on.”

“Can we help, Miss Granger?”

Hermione was shocked to see her two assistants, Kelly and Nico, were still in the shop, standing guard behind the cash registers.

“Oh, no, you two should go home.” Hermione looked around sadly at the mess of glass and dried egg yolks. “I’ll probably keep the shop closed until--”

“Just today,” Fred interrupted. She wheeled around and saw him writing a letter at the coffee bar. “Shop will be open for business tomorrow.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Granger,” Nico said as they and Kelly carefully stepped around the class and then out the front door.

“I appreciate your confidence,” Hermione said, walking to the other side of the coffee bar and opening a canister of hazelnut brew. “But there is no way I can get these windows fixed in less than a day.”

“I know a guy that owes me a favor. Do you have an owl?”

Hermione shook her head. “You don’t have to call in your favors on account of me. I can sort this out.”

“I’ll be right back,” Fred said, ignoring her previous statement. He left the shop and returned five minutes later as the last of the coffee was trickling into the pot. “My mate, Matt, will be here in thirty minutes.”

“Fred, what is going on?” Hermione handed him a mug of coffee and they cleared a path through the glass to the armchairs.

Fred wrapped both hands around his mug and hung his head. “Bethany was the one taking and hiding your letters from me.”

Hermione stared at him for a moment before muttering, “Fucking hell…” Fred let out a snort of laughter, causing Hermione to raise an eyebrow.

“Sorry. I think that’s the first time I ever heard you say fuck. Those Aussies imparted some colorful language on you.”

“Yes, well, my prefect days are well behind me.” Hermione gently blew on her drink and took a tentative sip. “I guess Gin was right. Occam's Razor is not applicable in the wizarding world.”

“Who’s Occam?”

“Muggle thing. So, how far down the rabbit hole does this conspiracy go?”

“All the way.” 

As they waited for Matt to arrive, Fred told her about Bethany falling for him while he was in the hospital and the ensuing jealousy when she saw them kissing. Hermione grew angrier as the story went on, yet a small part of her couldn’t help but marvel at Bethany’s sticktoitiveness.

When Fred finally finished the torrid tale, Hermione let out a slow breath. She stood up and went to refill her coffee. “Would you like some more?” she asked Fred, her voice soft and strained.

“No, thanks. Hermione, talk to me, please,” he said, following her to the bar.

Hermione took her time fixing her coffee, trying her hardest not to completely breakdown. When she finally looked up and saw Fred’s worried face, surrounded by the backdrop of her trashed shop, she couldn’t help but let the tears flow.

“Did you ever feel like life was playing one big, neverending joke on you?” she croaked. Sniffling and wiping a hand over her eyes, she continued, “I know life isn’t always fair but it’d be a nice change if I could put just one mark in the win column without taking two losses.”

Fred reached up and cupped her cheek, gently running his thumb over where it had been cut. It took every ounce of will power in Hermione’s body to not lean into his touch.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? You didn’t do anything,” she said with a sad chuckle. “It’s my horrible luck. When my parents’ memories were finally restored I was so happy. I had spent three years wanting nothing more than to be back home. As nice as Australia is, it wasn’t home, you know?”

Fred silently nodded. “But, surprise! I’m coming home without my parents!” 

She grabbed a napkin and blew her nose. “Fine. It’s their decision and I understand it. I still get to be back with my friends that I’ve been missing desperately. Except, the one I’ve been looking forward to seeing the most runs away from me.” 

Fred went to say something Hermione held up her hand. 

“I get that back on track only to find out some deranged woman with a superiority complex has been sabotaging me for the last three years and instead of disappearing in a cloud of guilt and shame when she’s found out, she decides to destroy the one little place of solace I’ve created for myself.”

Hermione let out a defeated sigh and hung her head. A chunk of rotten tomato dislodging from her hair and dropping into her coffee was her breaking point. Sobbing, she sank down onto the floor behind the bar. Fred was by her side within seconds. He held her hand and let her cry until her tears ran dry and she rested her aching head back, against the wall.

“I’m so sorry, Hermione,” Fred finally whispered.

“I know,” she whispered back, giving his hand a squeeze.

“It won’t always be like this.”

“I hope not,” she sighed.

There was a knock at the door and someone called out, “Hello? Fred? Anyone here?”

Fred and Hermione climbed to their feet. A man with dark blonde hair, wearing blue jeans and a festive red and green sweater, stood in the doorway and was surveying the damage. When he spotted Fred and Hermione, he waved and said, “Heya. Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“Just an existential crisis,” Hermione said, smiling as she moved around the bar to shake his hand. “Hermione Granger. You’re Matt, I presume?”

“Yes. Fred mentioned you were having some urgent window troubles. Do you mind if I take some measurements?”

“No, please, go right ahead. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask. Can I get you a coffee?”

“That would be lovely, thanks.” Matt waved his wand and a measuring tape flew from the end.

As he started gathering notes on the first window, Hermione turned back to Fred but found the shop empty. With a frown and a sigh, she summoned a broom and started sweeping up the bigger pieces of glass while wishing her heart was as easy to fix as her windows.

* * *

  
  


“You know if you don’t say yes to me, Mum is going to be in here guilt-tripping you into it,” Ginny prodded.

With an agitated huff, Hermione shoved the last book from her inventory cart onto the shelf. “Why does she want me there so badly?”

“Because you haven’t been to a family dinner since you’ve been back and it’s our Secret Santa kickoff,” Ginny explained. She grabbed the cart before Hermione could and started pushing it back to the stockroom. “Oh, and because you’re part of the family, duh!”

Hermione couldn’t help but smile. She knew Molly Weasley was excited for her to join the weekly Sunday dinners but everything that had been happening between her and Fred, Hermione had been reluctant to accept the invites. She didn’t fancy a Weasley interrogation about what was going on. 

It seemed she wasn’t able to stall any longer and if she was being honest, Hermione had been missing being surrounded by family. The week before she had bought a computer for the main purpose of video chatting with her parents, but it wasn’t nearly the same as being enveloped in the cozy chaos that The Burrow provided. And it had been so long since she had that in her life…

With an exaggerated sigh, Hermione said, “Okay.”

“You’ll be there?” Ginny asked, her face lighting up.

“I’ll be there. Should I bring anything along?”

“You do remember my mother, right?” Ginny asked.

When Hermione arrived at The Burrow that Sunday, there wasn’t one single undecorated corner of the house. Fairy lights twinkled along the ceiling of each room and a grand tree took up a full quarter of the sitting room. Hermione stood in front of the tree, wondering why it was the only thing left undecorated when Ron appeared beside her.

“Mum likes for everyone to help trim the tree,” he explained, sipping at a cup of mulled cider. “It’s become a tradition the past few years.” He looked up to the top of the tree and grinned. “Were you here the year Fred and George used a stupified gnome for a topper instead of an angel?”

Hermione snorted and shook her head. “No. When was that?”

Ron thought for a moment and then frowned. “Sixth year.”

“Ahh,” Hermione said, remembering the reason for her absence that year. “Lav-Lav.”

“Shut up,” Ron laughed, jostling her with his elbow. 

“You’re the one that dated her.”

He sipped at his cider again and then hummed, nodding his head to the right of the tree. “Victoire’s doll looks about gnome size. Think she’d miss the dress?”

“Ronald! That’s horrible!” Hermione looked around quickly, making sure no one heard him. “If you’re going to do it, you better be quick,” she hastily whispered.

Ron stole the dress and Hermione followed him to the back garden, snatching a sweet bun on the way out. She tore the bun in half and gave a portion to Ron. “Thanks,” he said, stuffing a chunk into his mouth.

“That wasn’t for you,” she hissed, smacking his arm. “It’s bait. How else do you think we’re gonna lure one out in this weather?”

“Oh, right.”

The pair broke off pieces of bread and tossed them around the garden. It didn’t take long before a gnome came shuffling out of a holly bush and claimed his treat. Ron went to stupefy him right away but Hermione insisted that he at least let the little pest eat first.

As Hermione altered the doll dress so that it would fit over the gnome’s head, someone clearing their throat made both her and Ron jump. 

“What in Merlin’s name are you two doing out here?” George asked, arching an eyebrow and casting skeptical glances at the pair. 

“Just finding something to decorate the tree with,” Hermione answered, shifting her gaze to the stunned gnome in Ron’s hand. It was still clutching a bit of bun in its hand and a look of betrayal on its face. 

George’s face lit up and he let out a bark of laughter. “I never thought I’d see the day when Hermione Granger would condone such antics!”

“We won’t leave him up there for long. He’ll be released later tonight,” Hermione insisted. “But I didn’t get to see the original so we thought it’d be fun to have a reenactment.”

“You won’t see me standing in your way,” George said, waving off her concern. He plucked two leaves and some berries from the holly bush. “Our angel is going to need some wings and a halo.”

While Ron stuffed the gnome into the doll dress, Hermione strung together berries and charmed them white and then George attached the leaves and coated them in glitter.

“Who’s going to keep him hidden until it’s time to decorate the tree?” Hermione asked.

“Mum’s already three chardonnays into the evening. We shouldn’t have any problem getting him up there right now,” George said.

Ron slipped the gnome inside his coat and the trio made their way back inside. With Victoire and Teddy running around, plenty of cider flowing, and a dozen chatty Weasleys, their absence hadn’t been noticed. Ron was able to easily levitate the gnome and stick it to the top bough of the Christmas tree. 

Feeling content, Hermione flopped down onto one of the overstuffed sofas and listened to the various conversations going on. It wasn’t long before George sat down beside her and handed her her own glass of cider. 

“How’s the shop going?” he asked, offering her a snack from his plate.

“Busy,” Hermione answered, selecting a cracker and chunk of brie. “I had to hire a second assistant. I was initially thinking I’d just keep them until the new year but they’re so great with customers I’m hoping they’ll stay on full time.”

“Is that Nico?” George asked and smiled when Hermione nodded. “I met them the other day. They made the best latte I’ve ever had.”

“You were in the store and didn’t come to say hi?” Hermione asked, putting on a mock affront. 

“It was impossible to find you amidst that sea of people. I’m really glad your shop is doing so well. Customers have embraced the changes with open arms.”

“Thank you. I noticed your shop is equally packed full every day.”

“Tis’ the season,” George said, sipping his drink. “We’ve been staying after almost every night, trying to get more products made. It’s been nice being able to do absolutely nothing today.”

Hermione nodded in commiseration. “I think I was asleep by eight last night. Could barely stay on my feet after scraping a dinner together.” She sipped slowly at her cider. “Where’s Fred?” she asked quietly.

George let out a sigh and shook his head. “He wouldn’t come. He told me it was because he had stuff he was sorting out for the shop but I know it’s because he doesn’t want to face the inevitable questions that were bound to come up.” He looked into Hermione’s eyes and gave her a sad smile. “I also don’t think he wanted to risk running into you.”

Hermione’s heart sank. It seemed her initial instincts not to attend had been right. “I knew I shouldn’t have come tonight. But Ginny was so insistent and I didn’t want to disappoint your mum again and--”

George shushed her and patted her leg. “You did nothing wrong, Hermione. Tonight or at any other moment in time, you have done nothing wrong. Fred has a lot going on in his head right now but he’ll get through it.”

“I never meant to cost him his relationship.”

“Hey, now! None of that talk,” George scolded, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “That silly bint knew full well what she was doing and the consequences that would come when she was found out. If anything, you finding those letters  _ saved _ him. Can you imagine if he had married her and found out twenty-years later?”

Hermione nodded and pushed back her tears. The logical side of her knew that, of course, none of this was her fault. But there was an irrational part that felt like she was in the center of it all and partly to blame. If only St. Mungo’s had assigned Fred a different physical therapist!

“Your ring is looking very festive,” George commented. He held up her hand and admired the red and green colors swirling together like a mini hurricane in the Reflection Ring’s gemstone. “Jealousy and anger are a good sign.”

“What about those feelings is good?”

George gave the side of her head a quick kiss and said, “Both indicate that you still care about him.” He stood and smiled down at her. “He still cares about you, too. Just thought you should know that.”

“Thanks, George. I do care about him but…”

“But…?”

“But I think any chance I had with Fred has passed,” she said with a little sigh.

He frowned and went to reply but got cut off by an indignant toddler.

“Hey! Why is Princess Phoenix nakey?” Victoire cried, holding her doll over her head.

“I think I saw a gnome sneak in and steal it,” George said seriously and Hermione had to clap a hand over her own mouth to stop from giggling.

Victoire looked at him like Mandrake leaves had sprouted on top of his head. “Gnomes don’t wear dresses, Uncle George.”

George shrugged and ruffled her silky, blonde hair. “Some do,” he said.

It wasn’t long after that that they all gathered in the sitting room to decorate the tree. Bill and Charlie took turns lifting up Victoire and Teddy to put ornaments on the higher boughs. Molly was the only person to mention the odd ‘angel’ and ask why it appeared to be glaring at her. Once the tree was aglow with multi-colored fairy lights, Arthur made his way through the family with an old hat.

“You know the drill,” Molly called over the chatter. “Pick a name from the hat and, starting tomorrow, send them a gift every day until Christmas Eve. But don’t ruin the fun! Keep your identity secret.”

“So glad you get to join us this year, Hermione,” Arthur said, holding the hat just slightly over her head so that she couldn’t peek in at the names.

“It's great to be home,” she said, smiling at him as she plunged her hand to the bottom of the hat and grabbed a piece of folded up parchment.

When Arthur had moved on to Ginny and Harry, Hermione slowly unfolded her parchment and sneaked a glance at the name. Written in a straight, tidy script was the name,  _ Percy _ . She remembered hearing that night that Percy had just received another promotion at the ministry. She’d swing by Scrivenshaft’s first thing tomorrow and get him a nice, personalized set of quills and then brainstorm a list of subsequent gifts.

“There’s still one name left. Who didn’t get a secret Santa name yet?” Arthur called. 

“That would be for Fred,” George called back. He hurried up to his father and dug the final name from the hat and stuffed it into his pocket. “I put his name in. I’ll swing by tonight and give it to him.”

After drawing the names, The Burrow slowly started to empty as children began to yawn and adults came to accept the fact that their weekend was drawing to a close. Hermione said goodbye to Ginny and gave Harry a quick kiss on the cheek as he draped an exhausted Teddy over his shoulder. Once they were safely through the floo, Hermione went to find Molly. 

“Would you like help with the washing up?” Hermione asked when she found the Weasley matron filling the sink with hot water.

“Oh, no thank you, dear. I’ve got it all covered,” Molly said, smiling as she motioned Hermione over for a hug. “I’m so glad you were able to come tonight. I know your week hasn’t been the easiest since Bethany’s little stunt.”

“It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Fred really helped out, calling in his friend to help replace my windows.”

“Oh, you got to meet Matty? He’s such a lovely boy. Single, too, I believe.” Molly turned and winked at Hermione.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hermione said, smiling and humoring Molly as she sent a cluster of forks flying into the cutlery drawer.

“Hey, Mum. I found Victoire’s doll dress under the couch,” Ron called as he came into the kitchen. “I remember hearing her asking about it earlier.”

“Oh, yes. Just set it on the table. She’ll be here tomorrow afternoon.”

“All good?” Hermione asked, looking up a Ron with a smirk.

“All good,” Ron assured with a chuckle. He kissed his mother’s cheek and said. “See you next weekend.”

“Will we see you next weekend?” Molly asked Hermione, raising an expectant eyebrow. 

“Yes. I didn’t realize until this week how much I missed family gatherings like this. You’ll definitely see me next weekend.” Hermione kissed Molly’s cheek and let the matriarch wrap her up in a tight and very much needed hug.

* * *

  
  


“Fred?”

Fred opened the door to the workroom and called out his location to George before turning back to the simmering cauldron. The antidote portion of the Nosebleed Nougats was almost ready to be poured into the molds.

“You skipped out on Mum’s Christmas kickoff festivities for snack boxes?” George asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“You know that’s not the only reason,” Fred muttered, giving the antidote one final, counter-clockwise stir. “Besides, I was able to double our stock of snack boxes for the week.”

“Have you taken a break and eaten at all today?” Fred’s stomach let out a grumble at the thought of food and George snorted. “I left a plate of leftovers up in the flat.”

“Let me get this into the molds.” 

Fred carefully poured the antidote while George filled him in on the family dinner. After the potion was poured and safely stored, Fred trudged up to his flat with George following, regaling him with the story about Ron and Hermione reenacting their gnome angel prank from years ago.

“Hermione did that?”

George nodded and grinned. “Said she was disappointed that she had missed it the first time around. I didn’t realize she hadn’t been there that year.”

“No, she went home for that Christmas,” Fred said, casting a warming spell over his plate of food. “Her and Ron weren’t getting along because Ron was dating that obnoxious girl that called him Won-Won.”

“Wow.” George laughed and shook his head?”

“Wha?” Fred asked around a mouthful of mash.

“How long have you been in love with this woman?”

“Fuck off,” Fred muttered, focusing his attention on the roast chicken and parsnips.

George pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. “What have you been up to all day?”

“Making sure the snack boxes are stocked up for the week.”

“So you haven’t spent the day wallowing and feeling sorry for yourself?”

Fred frowned and stabbed a chunk of chicken. “Not the whole day.”

George sighed and reached across the table and smacked Fred’s head.

“Oi! What the hell was that for?”

“Talk to me, mate! Stop suffering in silence and tell me what’s going on inside your head.”

“I read her letters today.” Fred let his fork drop to the plate and flopped back against his chair. “I’m pissed at myself for wasting so much time and leaving her on the other side of the world, thinking I didn’t give a fuck when I did! I gave a lot of fucks! I just…”

George laughed and kicked Fred’s shin under the table. “So, you messed up. It wasn’t fatal. You’re only twenty-three. Pull yourself together.”

“I fear after three years of silence and a crazy ex-girlfriend my chances with Hermione might have run out.”

“You never know. All colors point positive.”

Fred shook his head in bemusement. “Thanks for that cryptic reassurance.”

“I brought you the name of your secret Santa.”

As Fred wondered what that had to do with colors, George dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment that was folded in half.

Fred took it from him and opened it, expecting to see Bill’s name for the third consecutive year. When he saw a completely different name, he let out a surprised, “Oh,” and looked up at George. “You’ve seen it already, haven’t you?”

“I may have caught a glimpse of the first part of her name,” George said with a smile.

Details of Hermione’s letters started flashing in his brain. “I have an idea but I’m probably going to need some help.”

“You know me. I will forever be your steadfast wingman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There have been a few comments about why Bethany didn't just burn the letters as she received them. I will preface this explanation by saying that I am a big true crime fan. While Bethany isn't a serial killer I imagine her with the mentality that these letters are her trophies. I see her sneaking in and reading them, getting a sick pleasure knowing she was able to get Hermione out of the picture and have Fred to herself, congratulating herself on executing such 'perfect' plan.


	4. Chapter 4

_Dear Fred,_

_I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write. Life has been a bit of a whirlwind since arriving in Australia. I was met by two of their ministry officials and they filled me in on all the current information they have on my parents. My spell worked as I had hoped. They go by the names Monica and Wendell Wilkins and have set up their own dental practice in Sydney. They live in a little neighborhood by Clovelly Beach and it’s absolutely gorgeous! The ministry set me up in a house by theirs. The healers they’ve spoken to think it might help if my parents see me regularly. I’m not supposed to directly approach them but allow myself to be seen and friendly if they happen to approach me._

_Their dental practice must be doing very well because this neighborhood is unbelievable! The house they put me in is massive! It’s made for a family like yours, not just little old me. To be honest, the novelty of it wore off in a day. The size of the house only serves to accentuate how lonely it is here. I meet with people almost daily to discuss the plan to recover the memories but it’s not the same. I want my friends here. I really want you here (with some Honeydukes chocolate. I never got to pack a stash before I left and I could use some right now). I’m so mad that I had to leave before we got the chance to see where that kiss could lead. Do you think when I get back we can pretend we froze time and pick back up where we left off?_

_I know your days are probably filled with fussy family members and therapy, but if you get a few moments can you write back? It’ll be nice to get some comforting words from home. Most importantly, keep up with your physical therapy. I want you to be able to stay on your feet when I get back and throw myself at you. Sorry, was that too forward? Don’t care, I miss you!_

_All my love,_

_Hermione_

* * *

  
  


The next day Hermione woke up in a cheery mood. Being around her surrogate family had lifted her spirits and planning out her secret Santa gifts had finally put her in a Christmas state of mind.

At Scrivenshafts, Hermione found two beautiful, black swan quills. To go along with the shiny ebony feathers, she chose a cherry wood stand and had _Percy Weasley_ engraved in it. The shop gift-wrapped it and on her way back to Flourish and Blotts, she made a quick detour into the post office and scheduled it to be delivered to the ministry at lunchtime.

When she finally made it back to her shop, she greeted Nico and Kelly and then slipped into her office to hang up her coat and purse. She was about to head back to the floor when a package on her desk caught her attention.

It was a simple red box, tied up with a gold string. The tag attached read, “ _On the first day of Christmas…”_ Undoing the string, Hermione lifted the lid and grinned at the sight of a dozen chocolate bars from Honeydukes. Her secret Santa obviously knew her taste in sweets. She had been yearning for some Honeydukes chocolate since her return but hadn’t yet been able to make the trip to Hogsmead.

“Who was the package from?” Nico asked when Hermione joined them at the till. Nico was organizing the seasonal bookmark display and Kelly was finishing up the morning count. “Secret admirer?” 

Bringing Nico onto the team had been the best decision she and Kelly had made. Nico was never in a bad mood, always excited to help the customers, knew how to brew a perfect cup of coffee, and had an eccentric taste in fashion. Today Nico had their ever-present ‘They/Them’ pin attached to an ugly Christmas sweater, decorated with angry snowmen, over leather pants that had at least fifty zippers all over them. They completed the look with a pair of red kitten heels and their jet black hair was held back with a gold headband topped with a sprig of mistletoe.

“No, secret Santa,” Hermione laughed. 

“My family in America does something like that but they call it Yankee Swap and you can steal each others’ gifts.” Nico rolled their eyes.

"Oh, my family calls it White Elephant," Kelly said.

“I call it Nasty Christmas."

“Well, this tradition is sweet.” Hermione held up a chocolate bar and asked, “Would anyone care to join me in a morning sugar rush?”

“Hell yes.” Nico shoved the last few bookmarks onto the shelf and hurried to Hermione’s side. “This is going to go so well with the Polar Peppermint brew that finally came in.”

Hermione sniffed the air and her eyes lit up. “Ooh, so that’s what that smell is! I was worried we’d hit Christmas without seeing that shipment.”

“I have two pots brewed. You want a cup?” Nico asked eagerly, taking the piece of chocolate and darting to the coffee bar.

“Yes, please. Could you pour two extra? I’ll take some to Fred and George before we get slammed with customers.”

Hermione broke up the chocolate bar, gave a piece to Kelly, and then exchanged a second piece with Nico for two cups of coffee.

“Where’s mine?” Hermione pouted.

“I’ll pour yours when you come back. You definitely want it fresh and hot. It won’t taste right if it’s reheated,” Nico said, taking a small bite of their chocolate. Hermione grinned and leaned forward, kissing their cheek. “The headband works. Excellent!”

“Be right back.”

Hermione picked up the coffees and made her way out the front door and over to the neighboring shop. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw she wouldn’t have to elbow her way through a crowd with the steaming hot drinks but couldn’t help but laugh when she saw a pair of antlers on George’s head.

“I do believe you are in the wrong shop, Miss Granger,” George called.

“I bring good tidings and caffeine.” Hermione grinned and held up the cups as she made her way to the main counter. 

“Oh, in that case, you most certainly are in the _right_ shop.”

“Did I miss the festive headband memo?” Hermione asked, handing a cup of coffee to George. “Nico has a sprig of mistletoe hanging from theirs.’

“Ahh, but does theirs do this?” George reached up and pushed a spot on the band and red lights started blinking on the antlers. “Eh? Eh?”

“You got Nico beat there.”

“This is the first gift from my secret Santa.”

Hermione quirked her lips and shook her head. “That screams ‘Ron gift’.”

George’s eyes drifted up as if he was trying to inspect the gift while it was still on his head. “He would do something like this, wouldn’t he?”

Hermione just shrugged and then asked, “Where’s Fred?”

George glanced around and then pointed towards the middle of the floor. Hermione followed his gesture and saw a tuft of red hair peeking above the shelves. She nodded and maneuvered her way to him. She rounded the corner just as he finished chatting with a customer.

Taking a deep breath and trying to exhale all the awkwardness, Hermione said, “Good morning.”

Fred quickly turned and there was a beat of silence and rapid blinking. “Hermione. Hey. Good morning.”

“I brought you a cup of the newest coffee we got in.” She handed him the cup and then not knowing what to do with her empty hands, shoved them into her pockets. “Missed you at dinner last night.”

Fred smiled and nodded. “I’m sorry I had to miss it. George said your gnome angel was an exquisite piece of art.”

Hermione giggled. “He certainly was something.” Silence fell between them again. 

There were questions she had swimming in her mind but none of them were very appropriate for that time or place. Hand still in her pocket, she started twisting the Reflection Ring on her middle finger with her thumb. Lately, she had been using the ring as a bit of a meditation tool. When negative or unpleasant thoughts would creep up on her, she’d watch the colors on the stone swirl and let them grow brighter and brighter. She’d actually reflect on what triggered them and worked towards accepting them and then letting them go. It was a very cathartic activity and was gratifying to watch the gemstone fade back to the contented blue.

Hermione glanced out the window and said, “I should be getting back. Looks like the store is starting to fill up. Plus, I don’t want Kelly and Nico sneaking into my office and stealing all my chocolate.”

“You got a stash of chocolate and all we got was coffee?” Fred scoffed.

“What can I say? I have a nice secret Santa. Have a good one.” She waved and hurried out of the twins’ shop and back to her own. 

“Everything going okay?” she asked.

Kelly gave her a thumbs-up as she rang up a customer and Nico nodded and said, “I already had three nans ask if they could kiss me. It’s going to be a good day.”

* * *

  
  


_Dear Fred,_

_I ran into my mum at the supermarket today. I was excited at first but it quickly turned to sadness. She didn’t recognize me at all. I know it was stupid to get my hopes up but there was a brief moment when I thought she would wrap me in a hug and say that everything was going to be okay. The ministry here is coming up with a plan to get them together somewhere that they can let the healers do a check to see how strong the memory charm is. The tentative plan is to take over their general practitioner’s office and call them in for a check-up._

_On a brighter note, I met one of my neighbors today. Her name is Christina and she’s a year or two older than me, studying at the local university. Yesterday she took me to a bookshop that had a little cafe in it so you can peruse novels and get your caffeine fix all in the same place. We need a place like that in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. We also need to start importing Mecca coffee. It’s sooooo good! Trust me. You know I wouldn’t use all those superfluous o’s if they weren’t warranted._

_How is physical therapy going? Ginny said in her last letter that you were able to take a few independent steps. That’s amazing! Stop shaking your head. It is! All these small steps are quickly going to turn into leaps. I included a book to help occupy your time on your road to recovery. It’s called A Game of Thrones. I started it yesterday, got halfway through, and then went straight back to the shop and bought a second copy for you. I really think you’ll enjoy it. It has a little bit of everything in it- magic, war, sabotage, incest. If you like it, let me know. A second one is getting released soon and I’ll send you a copy if this one hooks you as it did me._

_I really hope you’re able to write back soon. I’m really missing everyone but especially you._

_All my love,_

_Hermione_

* * *

“Do you know how to use one of those muggle computer things?” Fred randomly asked during the lunchtime lull in customers the following day. He was working out how to access one of the gifts he had planned for Hermione. That morning he had left a tin of his mum’s mince pies at the shop door after one of her letters had talked about missing them.

“What in Merlin’s name would lead you to think I’d know about computers?” George replied, restocking the display of trick sweets on the counter.

“Ang has muggle relatives. I thought maybe someone had shown you.”

“Her brother has some kind of computer. He called it a lappy top or something like that. Tried to show me how to use it but he went so fast, I could only pretend to follow along and comprehend.” George stopped and looked up. “Why the sudden interest in computers?”

“I remember Harry once saying that he was able to use the internet to get a hard to find item for Ron’s birthday. I was hoping it might be able to use it to find some coffee for one of Hermione’s gifts.”

“Fred, the woman works in a coffee shop. Why would you get her coffee?”

“It’s a special kind, from Australia. I was hoping I might find someplace in the U.K. that carries it.”

George turned back to his task, shaking his head. “Just ask Harry. I’m sure he’ll help you out.”

“Then he’ll know my giftee. Plus, the man is still on the midnight shifts until the new year.” Fred dropped his hand and started idly drumming his fingers on the counter.

“I can help you, mate.”

Fred looked up as George turned around to see a guy, no older than nineteen, approaching the counter. He was wearing a worn leather jacket, ripped jeans, and a grey ball cap with a black checkmark on it. He was holding several Skiving Snackboxes. 

“Really?” Fred asked skeptically.

“Sure. You got a muggle ID?” Fred nodded and the man smiled. “Public libraries have computers and will let anyone with identification use ‘em.”

“If you show me how to use a computer, your Snackboxes are on the house.”

“Yeah?” The boy’s face lit up and he held out his hand to Fred and Fred shook it. “Deal! Me mum and boyfriend is making a big fuss outta me not bein’ able to make it to Christmas Eve dinner cause of my boss making me work. I figure if I pop a Puking Pastille an hour into the shift, I should be home in time for the second course.”

“Always nice to see our products being used for good,” Fred laughed as he summoned his coat. “What’s your name?”

“Mickey.”

“Nice to meet you, Mickey. I’m Fred. Are you good to go now?”

Mickey nodded and then said, “Just a word of warning, mate. Don’t search for pictures of naked people. The librarians don’t like it and you will get banned from the computers.”

George snorted, choked, and then busted up laughing while Fred silently stared at Mickey for a moment. Finally, he said, “Thanks for that tip. I’ll try to resist the urge.” He turned to his brother and said, “I won’t be long, okay?”

“Sure, I’ll be fine,” George said between wheezes and coughs as he pulled himself together.

Mickey apparated them to an abandoned lot in Camden, a few blocks away from the Holborn Library. As they walked, Mickey told him about how his mum was a muggle and his dad was a wizard. They had divorced when he was young and he lived with his mum until he turned eleven when his dad made sure he went to Hogwarts. Since graduation, he had spent most of his time in the muggle world, taking a job in a warehouse while he went to university.

“What made you go to a muggle university?” Fred asked, maneuvering around a full bike rack. 

“I like learning,” Mickey simply answered. “There isn’t much offered in the way of further education in the wizarding world, is there?”

“I guess not. Never really looked into it honestly. George and I left before we finished our seventh-year.” 

They reached the front steps of the library. Mickey pulled open one of the double doors and then followed Fred inside

“I hope you’re not here for a computer, Mickey Owens,” a stern voice called as they entered. Fred looked up and saw a grey-haired lady sitting at the front desk, glaring daggers at Mickey. 

“No ma’am. I’m here for a book. My mate here is the one needing a computer,” Mickey said, pointing to Fred. 

“Hello. I’m Fred Weasley,” Fred said, approaching the counter and pulling out the little muggle ID card from his back pocket.

Five minutes later, he was sitting down in front of a bright screen with Mickey beside him. Mickey leaned in front of him and quickly typed in the login information. The screen instantly changed to a picture of the library's logo with lots of little pictures scattered across the screen. 

“Okay, this,” Mickey indicated to an oval device on Fred’s right, “is your mouse. Move this and it moves the little arrow on the screen. Move that arrow to the big blue ‘e’ and click the right mouse button twice.”

With Mickey’s help, Fred was able to learn how to use a search engine to look for what he wanted and how to open up multiple tabs in case he wanted to compare things. When Fred felt confident enough to go it on his own, Mickey left him at the computer and went off to search for a book he needed for a writing course.

After a few minutes, Fred had to hurry back to the front desk and ask for paper and pencil so he could write down numerous shop names and their addresses. He hadn’t realized that with the internet he literally had the whole world at his fingertips and it took a bit of work to narrow things down to the U.K. and Ireland. 

Along with the special coffee Hermione wrote to him about, he also searched for the book Game of Thrones. He wasn’t sure if Bethany or her mail fraud friend had taken the book Hermione had sent, but either way, it wasn’t with the letter and wasn’t left beneath the floorboard. Not only was he able to find a special edition of the book but also discovered that the author was doing a talk and book signing at a Waterstones book store in just two days.

When Mickey returned with his checked-out books, Fred was just closing the web pages he had been browsing. When he said he was finished with the computer, Mickey leaned over and clicked the icon to log out. Fred stood and shoved his list in his pocket.

“Where are you off to next?” Mickey asked as they exited the library.

“Waterstones. Wanna join?”

Mickey looked at his watch and shrugged. “Sure. I could probably cross a few people off my list there.

Fred couldn’t stop smiling as they walked back to the abandoned lot. Chocolate bars and mince pies were but an amuse-bouche to the other gifts he had planned for Hermione. 

* * *

  
  


When Hermione entered the shop, both Nico and Kelly were waiting for her at the coffee bar with big grins on their faces. The twinkling lights of Nico’s angel halo headband cast an eerie shine over them both.

“Oookay,” Hermione said slowly, glancing around the shop. “You two aren’t at all creepy. What’s going on?”

Nico handed her a cup of coffee and excitedly said, “Your secret Santa was here early again.”

“Oh, please tell me it’s not more food,” Hermione groaned. “I’m nursing a mince pie hangover.”

“Did you eat that entire tin last night?” Kelly laughed.

“They were so good! Don’t judge.” Hermione looked around the store again and when she didn’t see a package, asked, “Is it in the office?”

“Yes, we moved her back there,” Nico answered.

“Her?”

Hermione hurried back to her office and when she opened the door, she was greeted with a soft hoot. Mouth agape, she approached the cage and bent down so that she was at eye level with a copper-feathered Pygmy owl. The little bird tilted its head and let out another hoot. She stood back up and picked up the tag that was tied to the top of the cage. One side read, ‘ _On the third day of Christmas…’_ and then on the back, there was actually a message that said, _‘You can’t run a proper business without an owl. This little one is very eager to help your shop grow.’_

Hermione sat down and opened the cage door, held out her hand, and slowly extended it towards the owl. Without hesitation, she hopped from her perch and into Hermione’s hand. She was barely bigger than her palm. 

“Aren’t you adorable?” Hermione cooed, holding the owl up and stroking a finger over her head. “I guess you’re going to need a name, huh?” 

The owl hooted in response and Hermione laughed. She sat back in her chair and had a think about what a good, meaningful name for her new companion would be. She’d never had the responsibility of naming a living thing before. Crookshanks had already been named when she adopted him. And whatever she decided would be final as they had learned years ago with Pigwidgeon. 

“I’m thinking a holiday-themed name would be fitting.” The owl fluffed its feathers as Hermione thought about the things that meant the most to her at Christmas- songs, food, shows, books- before finally settling on one of her favorite traditions from when she was young. Her parents would always take her to see The Nutcracker at their local theater and no matter how many times she had seen it, Hermione was enthralled with each and every performance.

“How about Clara?” The owl hooted and flew up to perch in Hermione’s hair. “I’m glad you approve. I’d hate to saddle you with a name you hated.”

The morning after Clara’s arrival, Hermione arrived at the shop and Kelly handed her a weighty gift, wrapped in shiny green paper with a red bow in the center. The attached tag read the usual ‘ _On the fourth day of Christmas…_ ’. When she ripped off the paper, a beautiful leatherbound, special edition Game of Thrones book lay in her hands.

“Wow,” Hermione whispered, running her hand over the front cover and then turning it over.

“You have a very generous secret Santa,” Kelly said, looking over Hermione’s shoulder. “Any idea who it might be?”

“I have my musings,” Hermione murmured. “I’m thinking it’s either Harry or Ginny but I don’t recognize the handwriting at all.”

When she opened the book, an envelope fell out and fluttered to the floor. Kelly picked it up and handed it to Hermione. Inside was a note that read, “ _Be at the Kensington High Street Waterstones by 12 p.m. tomorrow. Make sure you bring this book and the wristband_.” Peeking back inside the envelope, she pulled out a gold strip of paper that could be wrapped around a wrist and held by sticky tape.

“I can’t just leave my shop in the middle of the day,” Hermione said, looking up at her assistants in disbelief.

“Nonsense,” Nico said, taking the parchment from Hermione so they could read the note. “Kelly and I can take care of everything.”

“But--”

“Nico’s right,” Kelly interrupted. “The two of us can handle the shop for a few hours. You’ll regret it if you don’t go.”

“But I don’t even know what ‘it’ is that I might regret,” Hermione argued.

“Exactly. You'll be left to wonder and regret for the rest of your days,” Nico said dramatically. 

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Hermione sighed, looking down at her new book. 

As instructed, Hermione was at Waterstones the following afternoon, wristband and book in hand. The greeter at the door inspected her wristband and smiled. 

“Mr. Martin will be starting his talk in an hour, on our second floor. See one of the ushers up there if you need help finding your seat,” the greeter instructed.

“Mr. Martin?” Hermione’s eyes went wide and she looked down at the book. “As in George R. R. Martin?”

“Of course, Miss. That’s why you brought your book, right?”

“Yeah, right, for when I meet George R. R. Martin…” Hermione said, trailing off as she entered the store. 

She walked around the shop in a daze, wondering who her very thoughtful and insightful secret Santa was. All signs were pointing to Harry. He was the one most connected to the Muggle world. Ginny was her second guess, being Harry’s wife and able to employ his help.

A half-hour later, she made her way to the second floor, her book in one hand and a shopping bag in the other. She had picked up a coffee mug with a _P_ emblazoned on it and the board game Clue, figuring Percy would get a kick out of that muggle novelty. 

When she reached the ushers, Hermione held up her wristband and was led to a seat in the center of the very front row. At one o’clock sharp, George R. R. Martin sat down at the table, directly in front of her, and proceeded to talk about how he created the world of Westeros and brought life to all the brilliant characters that had been living inside his mind. After taking questions from the audience, rows were called up to have their books signed. 

“And who should I make this out to?” George asked, pulling Hermione’s book to him and flipping to the title page.

Hermione cleared her throat and said, “Hermione,” trying to sound like she was not currently starstruck.

“Hermione?” he commented as his felt pen glided over the page. “That’s quite a magical name. Sounds like it belongs in Casterly Rock.”

“I’ve always been more partial to Winterfell,” Hermione replied.

George chuckled and nodded. “I do sense a bit of Sansa in you. Have a great day, Hermione.”

When she floated into her own shop later that afternoon, Kelly and Nico rushed to hear all about her experience and admire the inscription in her book. 

“Has anything been dropped off while I was out?” Hermione asked hopefully. Nico shook their head and Hermione frowned. She had gotten used to receiving her gifts first thing in the morning but nothing had been waiting for her when she got to the shop that day. She had expected to come back from Waterstones to find another surprise.

“I’m sure it will show up soon,” Kelly reassured. 

But nothing did. That evening she bid Kelly and Nico farewell as she locked up and then climbed the back set of stairs to her flat. When she got in, Crookshanks trotted over and rubbed up against her legs.

“Hey, Crooks,” she greeted, reaching down to scratch his head. “Are you and Clara playing nice?”

She had been a bit worried when she brought the owl home the previous evening, but Crookshanks had simply sniffed Clara, purred, and licked the owl’s wing. That morning before she left, she had caught Clara sitting on the ginger cat’s head as he had his breakfast. They certainly were an unlikely pair but Hermione was happy that she didn’t have to keep Clara locked in her cage or out of the flat.

At that moment, Clara came whizzing into the room, let out an excited hoot, and then flew off to the kitchen. Hermione followed and found her pecking at a red cellophane-wrapped gift on the table. 

“ _On the fifth day of Christmas…_ ” read one side of the tag and on the flip side, “ _This might help you stay awake to read your book_ ”.

Hermione untied the silver ribbon and gasped when the cellophane fell away. In the middle of the wrappings sat three bags of Mecca coffee and a reusable travel cup that had a picture of an open book and the words, ‘Books are my happy place’ on it. 

She grabbed a bag and turned it over in her hands. She usually didn't have caffeine at this time of night but it was hard to pass up a cup of the coffee she had fallen in love with in Australia. Throwing caution to the wind, she started brewing a pot and washed up her new cup.

With her fresh coffee, Hermione got a blanket and her book and took it all out to her balcony that overlooked Diagon Alley. Curled up under the warmth of the fleece, she opened to chapter one and let herself get lost in a faraway world. She lost track of time and was several chapters in before a voice brought her out of Winterfell and back to Diagon Alley.

“It’s a bit cold to be out here, isn’t it?”

Hermione glanced up and saw Fred standing on his balcony. He conjured a chair and settled into it, zipping up his jacket.

“Not when you have hot coffee and a warm blanket.” Hermione tucked a bookmark in between the pages and set the book in her lap. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a few days. I brought coffee over yesterday and George said you were out for the morning.”

“Yeah, I’ve been doing my Christmas shopping in the mornings, when the shop isn’t so busy,” he replied.

“Have you figured out your secret Santa yet?”

“Oh, I figured that out the first day.” Fred held up an orange and maroon knitted hat and pulled it onto his head. “A new knitted wardrobe means it’s Mum,” he said, slipping on a pair of matching mittens. “What about you?”

“I think it’s either Harry or Ginny.”

“What makes you think it’s one of them?”

“The nature of the gifts. They’ve been things that not a lot of people would think to get me and I’ve already ruled out Ron. He obviously drew George’s name,” Hermione laughed.

“To his credit, George is thoroughly enjoying all his gifts. Did you see the spinning, singing bowtie he had on today?”

The two sat on their balconies and chatted for thirty minutes until the chill started to seep through Hermione’s blanket and the dregs of her coffee ran cold. As she was folding the blanket, Fred stood up and swore as he fell to the floor with a thud.

“Fred!” Hermione shouted, rushing to the railing. Fred was lying in front of the chair, thumping his fist against his left leg. “What happened?”

“Damn leg went out on me,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Hang on, don’t move!”

“Can’t really go anywhere,” he called as Hermione hurried into her flat and out the back door. 

She ran down her steps and then up Fred’s. He must have had his wand on him because the door was unlocked. When she emerged onto his balcony, she moved the chair away, bent down, and extended her hand. He grabbed it and she helped pull him to a sitting position.

“Take it slow,” Hermione said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Fred nodded, took a deep breath, and worked on using Hermione as leverage to pull himself to standing. She immediately wrapped an arm around his waist and helped hold him up as he limped inside. 

“Where would you like to go?” she asked.

“Bedroom. I can spread out and stretch,” he answered.

Hermione guided him to his room. He collapsed onto the bed and let himself fall backward.

“Can I get you anything?”

Fred scrubbed his hands over his face. “A new leg?”

Hermione let out a little laugh. “That’s more Mundungus’ area. I was thinking more along the line of water or a pain potion?”

Fred shook his head. “No, thank you. The feeling is starting to come back. If I stretch for a few minutes, the muscles should loosen up and let me get back to normal.” He angled himself up, resting his weight on his elbows. “Thank you. I didn’t fancy spending an evening trying to crawl off the balcony.”

“You’re welcome. I didn’t realize the cold affected it so much. I wouldn’t have kept you out there so long.”

“Nonsense. It wasn’t that long and usually the cold doesn’t bother it to that point. I think I should have conjured a comfier chair. I’ll know better next time.”

Hermione smiled. “Are you sure I can’t do anything else?” she asked, finding herself stalling; wanting to spend more time with Fred. 

“Nah, I’m fine. Go warm up and read the rest of your book,” Fred said, waving her off.

“Okay. If anything should change, just send your Patronus my way.”

“Will do. Goodnight, Hermione.”

“Goodnight, Fred.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing a non-binary character so if there are any representation concerns, please let me know. But Nico was inspired by the character David Rose from Schitt's Creek, one of the best characters ever!


	5. Chapter 5

_ Dear Fred, _

_ I’ve discovered a new hobby. If I tell you what it is do you promise not to laugh? Okay, I’ve taken up bird watching. Stop! I told you not to laugh! Yes, I know it’s something nans and granddads do, but I’ve found it’s really interesting and calming. Australia has a lot of beautiful birds. I got a bird feeder to put in the back garden so Crooks and I can sit and watch them through the back patio door. Though, Crooks is a bit put out that I won’t let him out to play with all the new feathery friends. Every now and then he’ll look back at me with the most pitiful look on his smooshed face.  _

_ I got a letter from Harry yesterday saying that Ginny was moving in with him. How is your mum handling that? I can’t imagine she’s too pleased about it. Is she holding her tongue or kicking up a fuss. I hope if it’s the latter then it’s not too much of a fuss because those two deserve some happiness. And it’s not like she won’t still have Ron there to dote on. She’ll probably have to kick him out to get rid of him.  _

_ The holidays are coming up and I’m unsure if I’m going to decorate or not. My aunt sent some of our Christmas stuff but it feels wrong to put up family heirlooms with no family to enjoy them with. Christina invited me to spend Christmas day with her and her family. I told her I’d be there and I’m going to make myself go so that I don’t feel like a complete Scrooge. I really wish there was a reason to hang my own mistletoe though. _

_ All my love, _

_ Hermione _

* * *

  
  


“She doesn’t think I’ve read her letters,” Fred said when George entered the shop.

“Who doesn’t what now?” George asked, shrugging on his shop robes.

“Hermione. We were talking last night and I don’t think she realizes that I’ve actually been reading the letters she wrote to me.”

“What gives you that idea?”

Fred filled his twin in on the events of the previous night as they got the shop ready for the day. As he was restocking the snack boxes, there was a knock on the door. He looked up and found Mickey hopping from foot to foot, rubbing his hands together, as snow flurries swirled around him. When he opened the door, he caught a glimpse of Hermione’s assistant, Nico, picking up the gift he had left. 

Mickey stomped his feet on the front mat and brushed the flakes from his hair. “I heard this morning that this is only a preview of what we’ll get tomorrow night,” he said, glancing out as Fred shut the door.

“Hey there, Mick. How’s it going?” George called.

“Good, mate, good. Last day of classes and then we break for the hols. How’re you guys?” Mickey replied, following Fred to the counter. 

“Busy as always. Where’re you two off out to?”

“Back to the library,” Fred said, pulling on his coat and scarf. “Won’t be long. I know exactly what I need. I just need Mickey’s credit card because it’s not something I can go pay cash for.”

“What’s a credit card?” George asked, shooting Fred a bemused look.

“It’s this little plastic card that works like a mobile bank.” Fred looked at Mickey for affirmation on his explanation. Mickey shrugged his shoulders and nodded. “I’ll have him explain it better when I get back.”

He and Mickey started for the door when Fred suddenly stopped and clapped Mickey on the shoulder. “Give me a mo, mate. I need to dash up and get something from the flat.”

Fred dashed back through the employee’s only part and up the steps to his flat. In his bedroom, he pulled a box from under his bed and flipped through the stack of Hermione’s letters. He knew exactly which one he was looking for. He had read it several times. Tucking it in his pocket, he ran back down and said goodbye to George.

“Are all these gifts for the same person?” Mickey asked after they had apparated and started their walk to the library. 

“Yeah.”

“A girl?”

“Am I that obvious?” Fred laughed.

“A little bit. I did much of the same when I was trying to charm my boyfriend. Leaving sweet little gifts, hoping he got the meaning.”

“How do you know she isn’t already my girlfriend?” Fred argued, side-eyeing Mickey with a smirk.

“You ain’t ever mentioned her and I ain’t ever seen you with a woman, so I assumed you were still in the wooing stage,” Mickey explained, returning the smirk.

“You assumed correctly. Honestly, it’s three years overdue. I’m holding out hope that I get a second chance.” Fred carded a hand through his hair and let out a frosty breath. “So, how long did it take to charm your boyfriend?”

Mickey laughed. “He caught on after the third gift, I think. Didn’t let me know until the fifth, though, the twat. Oh, he sends his thanks for the snack boxes the other day. He and my mum are very happy I’ll be home for Christmas Eve.”

At the library, Fred checked himself onto a computer while the lady at the desk kept a keen eye on Mickey. Fred pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, along with the letter from Hermione. He pulled up the webpage for his next gift and Mickey typed in his credit card number at the checkout page.

“Thanks so much, mate,” Fred said, passing Mickey some muggle money and then going to get his purchase certificate from the printer. When he got back, he unfolded Hermione’s letter and asked, “If I type in song lyrics, will the computer tell me who sung them?”

“Yeah, of course. What lyrics you searchin’ for?” Mickey sat forward and looked at the words Fred pointed at in the letter. He smiled and said, “Yeah, if you type in that first line it should come up with the song and band it belongs to.   
Fred typed out the line and as Mickey had said it would, the band and a picture of their album popped onto the screen.

“Odd name for a band,” he muttered as he wrote down the information.

A half-hour later, he and Mickey left a nearby record shop and Fred was set for his final secret Santa gifts.

* * *

  
  


_ Dear Fred, _

_ Guess what I got to do today? Nope, not even close! Well, I assume it’s not close. I shouldn’t assume though because I know your mind travels down some very strange paths...Okay, way off topic now. I got to hold a koala! It turns out Christina is studying to be a zoologist and is interning at the Koala Park Sanctuary. Today she took me on a tour of the park and I got to feed and hold a koala! It was so cute! Don’t worry, I didn’t smuggle one home. Crooks would not have been happy with that. I did take a bunch of pictures though and developed them right away. I’m tucking one of me and my new koala friend in this letter so you can confirm and admire his cuteness. Also, hopefully, it helps cheer you up a little. Ginny wrote that you’ve been really down lately. I’m sorry that I can’t be there to help. It must be a relief to be getting out of the hospital though! I’m sure being back in your own space will help with the mental healing that’s still going on.  _

_ If you’re still not ready to write back, I completely understand. I’m sorry if my previous letters have come off needy or pressuring. It’s the last thing I want to heap on you. So, whenever you’re ready, I will be patiently waiting right here. Miss you! _

_ All my love,  _

_ Hermione _

* * *

  
  


Hermione let herself into her flat and immediately went to the stove to start boiling a pan of milk for hot cocoa. She finally had a chance to sit and peruse her gift from the previous day and wanted to sit out on the balcony for a bit before it was buried in the imminent snowstorm. 

As she poured the milk into the saucepan, Clara fluttered and hooted above her head.

“What has you all excited?” Hermione laughed, setting the carton back in the refrigerator. “I hope you got out a bit today because I don’t think you’ll be wanting to go anywhere tomorrow.”

After she set the burner temperature, Hermione turned and saw what had made her little owl so excited. That day’s secret Santa gift was sitting on the table. 

This one wasn’t wrapped. It was a stuffed koala with an envelope tied to its paws. The envelope simply said ‘ _ On the seventh day of Christmas… _ ’ She tore open the envelope and pulled out a piece of tri-folded paper.

Unfolding the paper, Hermione smiled as she read aloud, “Certificate of adoption. This is to certify that Hermione Granger adopted Lismore Myrtle. Koala Hospital, Port Macquarie, New South Wales, Australia.” On the right side of the paper was a color picture of a koala sitting in a tree.

“Look Crooks,” Hermione said, bending down to the ginger cat weaving around her legs and pointing to the koala picture. “You have a new adopted sister.”

“Merow,” Crookshanks crooned, rubbing his head against the paper.

“Sorry, buddy. You can’t play with her.” 

She scratched his fluffy head and went to hang the certificate on the refrigerator. Taking a step back, she grinned. This gift solidified her assumption that her secret Santa was indeed Harry. Everything she had been gifted had been things she wrote home about- something she had enjoyed in Australia or missed from England. 

With a steaming mug of hot chocolate, Hermione gathered her blanket and the book about birds she had received, along with a pair of binoculars, the previous day. It had been inventory night and she didn’t get to read any of it then, so she was nerdily excited to finally have the chance to sit down and have a proper look. She didn’t get to read long though before a familiar voice got her attention.

“Whatcha readin’ tonight?”

Hermione looked up and saw Fred leaning against the railing of his balcony. She held up her new book and he smirked.

“Collins BTO Guide to British Birds,” Fred read out loud. “Ron could really use a copy of that. His love life has been in the dumps for a while now.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and set the book in her lap. “What brings you out here on this frosty eve?”

“Saw you out here and thought I'd come say hi. Sorry if I interrupted.”

“You’re not interrupting. It’s nice getting these surprise chats. I live beside you now and feel like I barely see you. Would you like to come over? I have hot cocoa and comfy chairs.”

“Sold. I’ll see you in a minute.”

Fred disappeared into his flat and Hermione went to heat up more milk. She was just putting a dollop of whipped cream on his drink when there was a knock at her door. 

“Hi,” she greeted, handing him the mug.

“Hi. Your place looks great,” Fred said, stepping in and looking around. “Very cozy and Christmassy.” He took a tentative sip and wandered over to her tiny Christmas tree. He touched the glowing star on top and commented, “Your tree seems to be missing a gnome.”

Hermione laughed. “I thought about it but tradition won out. That’s the tree topper that’s been on our tree since I was born.”

Fred gave her a sad smile. “How have you been holding up without them?”

Tears instantly sprung to Hermione’s eyes but she blinked them away. “Um, okay for the most part. It’s going to sound bad but I’ve gotten used to it. This will be what? The third or fourth Christmas I’ll be on my own for.”

“You know you’re not on your own,” Fred said.

Hermione smiled and nodded. “I know and I’m so happy to spend the holidays with all my favorite people. It’s just hard to acknowledge when a certain chapter of your life comes to a close.” She let out a long sigh and looked down at the stormy grey stone on her ring. “If I’m being honest, that chapter should have closed years ago when I altered my parents’ memories. I’ve just been refusing to read the last page.”

Against her will, a tear slipped out and streaked down her cheek. Fred set down his drink and wrapped her in a hug. Giving in to her sadness, Hermione buried her face in his sweater and sobbed. Fred didn’t say anything. He just held her and let her cry out all the feelings she had been trying to avoid for so long.

And Merlin, it felt so right! Standing there, wrapped in Fred’s arms, was exactly where she wanted and needed to be. She had been denying and pushing back her feelings for him for so long, trying to put up a happy, friendly facade. But she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. 

So she let out a few extra tears in mourning for what she could’ve had with Fred. What she  _ should’ve had... _

After a minute, Fred ran a hand over her hair and said softly, “You know there’s an upside to closing a chapter.” When Hermione let out a questioning hum, he continued, “Now you get to start a brand new chapter or a whole new book.” He pulled back and looked down at her. “In your case, I think you’re at the start of writing your own novel.”

Hermione let out a watery laugh as she sniffled and swiped the tears from her eyes. “Thanks, Fred. I’ve been needing that moment of weakness.”

Fred grinned and grazed his thumb over the tear tracks on her cheek. “Hermione Granger, weak? Impossible” 

Hermione gazed up into his warm brown eyes and felt like she could melt right into him. “I’m glad you’re part of my novel.”

Fred went to speak but Hermione held up a finger and shushed him. She swore she could hear music but didn’t have the radio playing.

“Do you hear that?” she whispered.

Fred tilted his head to the side. “Yeah. Sounds like it’s coming from outside.”

He followed as she opened the balcony door and the music grew louder. Fat, fluffy flakes had started to fall and there was already a coating of snow on the deck and railings. Colorful fairy lights and the glow of candles in the windows made the small town feel even more magical.

“Carolers,” Fred said, pointing up the street.

Hermione followed his gaze and saw what appeared to be about a dozen people, bundled up in heavy cloaks and thick scarves, slowly making their way down the empty cobbled street as they sang.

_ Have yourself a merry little Christmas _

_ Let your heart be light _

_ From now on, _

_ Your troubles will be out of sight _

The two stood and listened to the slightly off-key, yet soothing, singing as the carolers strolled down the street. For a minute or two, Hermione did let her heart be light; and standing there with Fred by her side, she felt warm despite the snow piling up at her feet. When Fred’s hand came up to cover hers, she caught a glint of purple swirling in her ring.

_ Through the years _

_ We all will be together _

_ If the fates allow _

_ So hang a shining star _

_ Upon the highest bough _

_ And have yourself a merry little Christmas, now _

That was the first she had noticed the gemstone turning purple, but it made perfect sense. She had been acknowledging and letting go of her other feelings. Maybe it was time to do it with her love for Fred Wesley. 

* * *

  
  


“You’re smiling too much. What did you get up to last night?”

Fred looked up from the supply catalog and into the skeptical face of his twin and continued to grin. “Can’t a man just be happy because it’s Christmas?”

“She’s enjoying your gifts, isn’t she?”

Fred nodded.

“Still doesn’t think it’s you?”

“She’s dead set on Harry,” Fred laughed. He closed the catalog and tossed it under the counter.

“This still doesn’t explain why you can’t stop grinning like a fool.” Fred started to answer but George cut him off with, “Besides the fact that you  _ are _ a fool.”

“She invited me over for hot chocolate last night.”

“Hot chocolate? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Shut it,” Fred laughed. “She invited me over, made hot chocolate, and, after a group of carolers passed by, she popped popcorn and we watched a Christmas film.”

“How did she get a telly to work in Diagon Alley?” George asked. “Half the reason I moved out of here was so we could have cable.”

“She’s Hermione and she’s brilliant.” Fred shrugged at his brother’s unconvinced look. “She told me how she got it working but it was very technical and I couldn’t begin to explain it properly.”

“She is a very clever witch,” George conceded. He went to open the door and called over his shoulder, “You plan on telling her you actually did read the letters?”

“She’ll figure it out with gift number eleven.”

* * *

  
  


“Miss Granger,” Nico called, knocking on Hermione’s door. “You have a very insistent visitor.”

Hermione sighed and looked up from her ledger. When she saw who was standing beside Nico her face immediately lit up and she jumped from her chair. 

“Harry!” she cried, wrapping her best friend in a hug. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Guess who finally sweet-talked his way off the midnight shift?” Harry said with a smile. 

“We’re going to go ahead and close up for lunch,” Nico said, turning to head back to the floor. 

“Thanks, Nico. And stop calling me Miss Granger!” She called after them.

“We’ll see,” they called back.

Harry sat down in the seat beside Hermione’s desk, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Make yourself at home,” Hermione said, giving his trainer a kick as she sat back down.

“Thanks. Any plans for lunch?” Harry asked, exploring the items on her desk. 

“Leftovers in my flat.”

“Ooh, sounds exquisite. Could I tempt you away from that for a meal with me at The Leaky Cauldron?”

“I could be swayed. Let me finish balancing these numbers.”

Harry picked up the new, leather-bound planner on her desk and flipped it open. “See, right here it says ‘ _ 12:30- Lunch with The Chosen One _ ’,” he said, pointing to the page.

“Really? I thought it said ‘ _ 12:30- Lunch with a disillusioned auror _ ’?”

Hermione smirked when Harry’s lips quirked in annoyance and he looked up at her. “Well, it does now. How’d you do that?”

The agenda had been her ninth secret Santa gift. It wasn’t just a normal agenda that you wrote down appointments and memos in. It linked to the owner’s magical signature so that the witch or wizard had a hands and quill-free dictation tool that could translate any language, even Gobbledegook. 

“You don’t have to play dumb if you don’t want to. I’ve figured it out.” Hermione said with a wink.

“But playing dumb is all I’ve got, ‘Mione!” Harry said dramatically. “Seriously though, I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s a very useful gift, especially for you who tends to think and speak faster than the average human being.”

Hermione just smiled and nodded as she finished her adding. She didn’t think Harry would spill the beans that easy but she was certain that if he wasn’t her secret Santa then he definitely had a hand in helping Ginny choose gifts. 

“The agenda was my secret Santa gift today. Yesterday’s was that picture,” Hermione said, pointing to a framed caricature drawing of Crookshanks chasing birds around a garden. 

“Oh, wow, that’s so well done,” Harry said, hopping up and going over to inspect the picture more closely. “I’ve been getting various items of dragonhide attire. I think it’s safe to assume Charlie pulled my name.”

“Even I would place a sizable bet on that one,” Hermione chuckled. She filled in her final numbers and closed the ledger. “And done. Ready?”

Harry grabbed her coat from the hook on the back of the door and tossed it to her. “Yes. I’m starving! I’m hoping Tom has treacle tart on the menu.”

“Because your mother-in-law won’t be making you any in three days?”

“One can never have too much treacle tart.”


	6. Chapter 6

_ Dear Fred, _

_ Of all the letters I have written to you, this is perhaps the hardest. I’ve been putting it off for a few days because I know what it means when I send it. It means that the dim light of hope I’ve been chasing has finally gone out. It means accepting what I have feared for the last few months. It means that you’ve moved on. _

  
  


The night before Christmas Eve, Hermione and Nico stayed late at the shop. They planned on closing early the next day and then all day for Christmas, so they wanted to try to get rid of as much holiday stock as possible. Their goal for the evening was to reprice certain items in hopes of seeing the shelves bare the following afternoon. Kelly had a family commitment and Hermione insisted she go.

“Isn’t Lucas due to pick you up any minute, now?” Hermione asked, and Kelly nodded. “Don’t make the poor guy wait around a boring shop for an hour. Go and enjoy your evening. Nico and I can take care of everything here.”

‘ _ And I need something to keep my mind from plummeting down a sad hole of what-ifs, _ ’ Hermione mentally added.

“If you need me, I’m just a floo call away,” Kelly assured as someone knocked on the door.” She ran to open the door and a tall, olive-skinned man with long, dark hair stepped in and gave a small wave. “Lucas, this is Hermione and Nico. Hermione, Nico, this is my boyfriend, Lucas.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Lucas said. He turned to Kelly and kissed her, then asked, “Ready to go, sweetheart?”

“Yup!” She kissed his cheek and summoned her coat. “Have a good night!”

“Have a good night,” Nico said and then locked the door after the couple had left.

Hermione watched as the couple made their way up the street, with Lucas wrapping his arm around Kelly’s waist and pulling her closer to him. With a morose sigh, she moved behind the counter to start writing out new price signs and Nico started unboxing the last of the children’s holiday books.

_ Ginny wrote and told me you’ve started seeing someone. I’m sad that things with us didn’t turn out how we thought it might. Well, at least how I was hoping they might. But I want you to know that I’m really glad that you’ve found someone that makes you happy. After everything you’ve gone through and worked to overcome, you should be grabbing every good opportunity that life throws at you. _

“Earth to Hermione!”

Hermione’s head jerked up as Nico’s voice broke through her forlorn thoughts.

“You still with me over there?”

“Yeah, sorry. My mind took a wander. What were you saying?”

“I said that I already have so many ideas for Valentine’s Day,” Nico said, shelving the last of ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas. “If you give me permission, I will make it look like Cupid vomited all over this shop, but you know in a classy, not at all tacky kind of way.”

Hermione gave him a weak smile and shook her head. “Maybe bring the vomit down to a violent sneeze?” She finished writing up the new price signs and started floating them to the appropriate shelves and counters. “Let’s just get to New Year’s, shall we?”

The thought of dragging out an already overly sweet day of love and romance into a full month made Hermione feel sick.

Nico paused for a second and turned to Hermione. “You are keeping me on after New Year’s, right?” they asked.

“You bet your arse I am. How would you feel about making an Unbreakable Vow of Employment?”

Nico brought a finger up to their chin and gave it a pondering tap. “I’d definitely need a raise.”

“Will you tell me where you got your dress?”

Nico looked down at their long-sleeved, wine-color, smocked waist dress that Hermione had been jealously coveting the entire day. They bit their bottom lip and then let out an exaggerated sigh.

“I guess.”

Hermione grinned. “We’ll negotiate in the new year then, shall we?”

Nico laughed for a second and then their face fell as they looked over her shoulder. Hermione turned and looked out the window.

“What--”

Nico shushed her, drew their wand, and cast a silent  _ lumos _ . They opened the front door, holding their lighted wand out and scanning the darkened street.

_ We just...we never got the timing right. There are times I catch myself thinking that if only I had told you about my feelings earlier, we could have had so much more time together. And then I stop myself because I know that isn’t true. It just wasn’t meant to be and that’s okay. I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. _

“Nico? What’s wrong?” Hermione asked, moving to stand behind them. 

“I thought I saw someone peeping in the window.” 

They let their wand drop, illuminating a package on the ground. Nico bent down and scooped up the thin square that was wrapped in glittering, purple paper. 

“On the eleventh day of Christmas…” Nico sang, handing the present to Hermione. 

Hermione tore off the paper and revealed a second-hand record from a band she had never heard of. 

“I didn’t know you were a fan of Neutral Milk Hotel,” Nico said, peering over her shoulder. 

“I’m not. I’ve never heard of this band before.”

Hermione stared at the record and couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. Every other gift she had received was so thoughtful and meaningful. Why did Harry or Ginny think she’d want a used album by a band she didn’t know? She frowned and turned the album over.

_ I’ve been holed up in the cafe the past few days, escaping into books, trying to put off dealing with reality. The reality that we weren’t meant to be. The reality that getting my parents back isn’t as easy as expected. The reality of having to stay here longer than I thought. While tucked away in a corner, a song came on and it instantly made me think of you. I have no clue who sings it, but the lyrics stuck with me. _

“Oh, look,” Nico said, reaching over and pointing to a song on the tracklist that had been circled in red ink. “Does that song ring a bell?”

“In the Aeroplane Over the Sea? Nope. No dings, no dongs.” She scanned the other songs and shook her head. “It’s probably just a marking from its original owner.”

“Well, let’s find out. If nothing else, you get to be introduced to a fantastic song.”

Nico plucked the album from her hand and took it to the record player behind the counter. Hermione went back to hanging the new signs. There were a few scratches as Nico dropped the needle and moved it to the correct track. Static filled the room for a brief second and then an acoustic guitar started strumming. 

The first lines flowed through the shop. Hermione froze and stared straight ahead as the words struck her core.

“Oh,” she whispered.

**_What a beautiful face_ **

**_I have found in this place_** ** _  
_****_That is circling all 'round the sun_** ** _  
_****_What a beautiful dream_** ** _  
_****_That could flash on the screen_** ** _  
_****_In a blink of an eye and be gone from me_** ** _  
_****_Soft and sweet_** ** _  
_****_Let me hold it close and keep it here with me_**

By the time Nico returned, tears were cascading over her cheeks and she couldn’t speak. Without question, Nico wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gently pulled her to their side. She rested her head against their shoulder and sniffled.   
When the song ended, Nico said softly, “I take it you do know that song?”  
Hermione nodded. “Yeah, and I know who my secret Santa is.”

_ Take care of yourself, Fred.  _

_All my love,_ _  
__Hermione_

* * *

Hermione didn’t sleep much that evening. She tossed and turned with the same thoughts and questions going round and round in her mind.

‘ _Fred actually read all of my letters. Does he feel the same way I do? I shouldn’t get my hopes that high. But what if he does? He probably doesn’t. This was probably just his way of acknowledging the letters and letting me know he wants to be friends. And that was great! It was perfectly fine to be in love with your friend, right?_ ’

It was no use. She was unable to shut off her brain long enough to do more than doze off before her subconscious slapped her awake and started the infuriating thought process all over. At six a.m., Hermione finally gave up and flung the blankets off of her with a growl.

In the bathroom, she turned the shower on full blast and, as the water heated up, gave herself a pep talk in the mirror.

“You will not let this consume your every waking moment today,” Hermione asserted, pushing the unruly curls away from her face, only to have them fall right back. With a huff, she shook her head and said, “You will have your answers tonight. Good or bad, you will get them. Now, get your shit together and go do your job.”

With a final nod at her reflection, Hermione spun around and stepped into the steaming shower.

For the most part, the personal pep talk had helped set her mind on the right track for the day. It also helped that the store was continuously busy from open until close. Hermione and Kelly took turns on the register, and there wasn’t a second where Nico wasn’t preparing coffee orders. They all worked straight through, without even closing for lunch. When it came time for lunch, they each took ten minutes to sit in the office and rest their feet while they ate a sandwich. 

Every now and then, between customers, Hermione would catch herself staring out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Fred. All she ever saw, though, was a steady stream of people going in and out their front door and she’d inevitably get quickly called back to the demands of her own store.

“Happy holidays!” Nico called as the last customer left the shop.

Hermione cast a locking spell at the door and then let her head hit the counter with a thud.

“We made it,” Kelly said with a laugh, patting Hermione on the back. “You’re officially on Christmas vacation.”

“I’m going to spend my two days sleeping,” Hermione groaned, letting out a yawn she had been suppressing for an hour. 

“Planning on sharing your bed with a special someone?” Nico quietly asked. Hermione looked up and saw them wiggling their eyebrows suggestively.

“If you’d like an invitation into my bed, all you have to do is ask,” Hermione retorted.

“Mmm, I would but something tells me there won’t be any room.” Nico drummed their fingers on the counter and gave her a poignant look before sauntering away to clean up the coffee bar.

“I’m flattered, Nico, but I honestly am not getting my hopes too high for tonight. He’ll probably turn up with a nice sweater or something of that sort,” Hermione sighed, opening the till and starting the final count.

“Are you mental?” Nico exclaimed. “A man does not play a woman a song like that and then just get her a sweater.”

“Anyone care to fill a girl in here?” Kelly asked, looking confusedly between Nico and Hermione. “What did I miss last night?”

“Our shop neighbor fancies Hermione,” Nico said, a smug smile on his face, “but she doesn’t think he wants anything more than friendship.”

“Ohh...wait, not the married one right?” Kelly asked. When Nico shook their head, Kelly grinned and looked over at Hermione. “He’s cute. You should go for it.”

‘ _ I already did, three years ago, _ ’ Hermione thought, but instead said, “Yeah, maybe. We’ll see. What are you two still doing here, anyway? Go, start your own vacation! You have two whole days. Get out of here and start celebrating!” Hermione said, waving her hands in a shooing motion.

“As long as you dish all the dirt when we come back.” Kelly gave her a hug and said, “Merry Christmas, Hermione.”

“Merry Christmas, Kel.” Hermione turned to Nico, who made no indication that they were about to follow their co-worker out into the Christmas chaos. “Not ready to start your holiday?”

“I’m in no rush,” Nico answered as they wiped down the counter. “My fun doesn’t start until nine and there’s no way I’m leaving this area only half cleaned for two days.”

Hermione started gathering up stray coffee mugs and muffin wrappers as Nico told her about their plans for a holiday-themed pub crawl through Soho with a bunch of old schoolmates. In return, Hermione told them stories about her Christmases in Australia, including the time Christina’s older brother tried to teach her how to surf.

“I find it really hard to imagine you on a surfboard,” Nico said, giving her an incredulous look. 

“I have photographic proof,” Hermione laughed. She stacked the clean plates back on a shelf and tossed the damp tea towel into the dirty laundry basket. “I didn’t last long on the board though. I was tossed off every time I attempted to stand and then ended up nursing sore muscles through Christmas dinner.”

Nico dropped their washcloth into the basket and Hermione spelled it away to her flat. 

“I think we’re done here,” Hermione said, glancing around.

“Great. Now I can give you your gift,” Nico said, dashing off to the stockroom.

“Nico! You shouldn’t have,” Hermione called after him.

“Nonsense,” Nico scoffed as they returned holding a hanger with a dress bag draped over their other arm. “You don’t know how much you helped me. I had all but given up on finding a job and then you swooped in like a freaking angel and saved me.”

“I saved you? If I didn’t have you, I don’t think this shop would have lasted more than two weeks!”

Nico’s lips quirked up in a smug half-smile. “Okay, we saved each other. In celebration of our mutual savings, I got you this.” They spelled the dress bag to hang in the air and floated it to Hermione.

“Is this what I think it is?” Hermione asked, reaching for the zipper and expecting to find the dress of Nico’s she had said she wanted the previous night.

“It almost was. But then I saw this and knew immediately that it’s what you need to wear tonight.”

Hermione unzipped the bag and pushed it back to reveal a stunning, emerald green, half-sleeved velvet dress, with crinoline under the skirt to give it volume. She ran her hand over the soft material in awe. 

“I’m going to assume you have shoes to go with it,” Nico said, coming to stand beside her.

“Oh, Nico. You really shouldn’t have,” Hermione whispered. “It’s absolutely gorgeous. Thank you.”

She threw her arms around them and they hugged her.

“You’re a catch, Hermione Granger, and the universe is full of second chances,” Nico murmured, kissing her cheek. They pulled back and looked Hermione in the eye. “When you catch yours tonight, hold on tight.”

* * *

When Hermione flooed to The Burrow that evening, Harry was the first to see her and scoop her into a hug. 

“Wow, you look great,” Harry said, stepping back and taking in her outfit. “New dress?”

“Yes, it was a gift from Nico,” Hermione answered, smoothing her hand over the skirt. She had paired the dress with gold, open-toed heels, and let her curls hang loose, tucking them away from her face with a few strategically placed hair grips.

“They have a good eye for fashion. I might have to ask for their advice for the next Ministry function,” Harry said and then let out an “Oof,” as Teddy came barreling into his legs. 

“Presents now?” the three-year-old asked, looking up at his godfather with big, hopeful eyes.

“Not yet, pal. We’re still waiting for everyone to arrive.” Harry lifted Teddy up and settled the little boy on his hip. “Let’s go see if the gingerbread houses are ready to build.” Teddy let out a cheer as Harry carted him to the kitchen.

Hermione placed her final present for Percy under the Christmas tree, smiling at the proper angel that now sat atop it. With a deep breath, she turned around and scanned the crowd for Fred. When she didn’t see him, she let out a sigh and made her way to the kitchen for a drink. 

It appeared as though Molly had about every food imaginable spread out, with a steaming cauldron of spiced wine in the middle. Hermione’s stomach grumbled. Lunch felt like ages ago, her meager sandwich long forgotten. She filled a plate with chipolatas, roast potatoes, mince pies, and smoked salmon. With a goblet of spiced wine, she settled onto a settee beside Fleur and watched as Harry and Bill helped Teddy and Victoire construct their gingerbread houses.

“Careful, mon ch é ri,” Fluer said, cringing as a Victoire bent over and dragged her hair through a glob of royal icing before Bill could pull it back.

“Oh, my,” Hermione laughed as the little girl realized her faux pas and stuck the icing coated strands in her mouth. 

Teddy and Harry weren’t faring much better. The thighs of Harry’s black trousers had white, toddler-sized fingerprints all over them and Teddy’s hands were coated in icing and green sprinkles. 

A whoosh of cold air blew through the kitchen as Angelina entered, with George behind her calling out, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” a myriad of voices yelled back.

“Hello, Miss Granger,” George said, bending down to kiss her cheek. When he pulled back, there was a piece of folded parchment on top of her last mince pie. 

“What’s this?” she asked, picking up the parchment and looking at George. 

“What’s what?” he said innocently, before moving into the sitting room.

Hermione shook her head and unfolded the parchment.

_ You’ll find your final present outside. _

Hermione’s heart instantly started racing as she glanced up at the back door. 

“You okay, ‘Mione?” Harry asked, looking at her with concern as he tried to keep Teddy’s hands out of his hair.

“Yeah, fine. I just have to nip outside quick.”

Hermione set her plate to the side and slowly walked out to the back garden. Fresh snow quickly covered her half-bare feet, numbing her toes. Her breathing stalled when she spotted Fred sitting on the cleared top of a picnic table.

“Merry Christmas,” Fred greeted, holding out a small rectangle that was wrapped in red paper. 

Hermione smiled and gingerly stepped through the snow to join him at the table. He took her hand as she stepped up on the bench and sat down beside him.

“On the twelfth day of Christmas…” he said, handing her the gift.

Hermione stared at him for a moment and then took her chance.

“My true love gave to me?”

Fred smiled, his brown eyes shining in the moonlight. With trembling fingers, Hermione pulled back the wrapping paper and removed the lid from a simple black box. Lying on a pad of cotton was a sprig of mistletoe.

“I was hoping that this Christmas you might have a reason to hang your own mistletoe,” Fred whispered.

“You read my letters.”

“I wish I had gotten to read them sooner.”

Hermione lifted the mistletoe from the box and held it above her head. “Better late than never.”

Fred’s smile widened and, unlike the first time three years ago, there was no hesitation when he leaned in to capture her lips with his. And Hermione let herself melt into him as she had been yearning to for so long. The kiss was slow, sweet, and warmed her from her toes to the tip of her nose. It was utterly perfect until…

“Oi, what are you two doing out here?” Harry called from the house.

Hermione leaned her forehead against Fred’s and laughed. “Go back to your gingerbread house, Harry!” she called as Fred scowled.

“He’s lucky my sister likes him so much,” Fred muttered as the door clicked shut.

“And, you know, there’s also that whole saviour of the wizarding world thing.”

“Eh, I guess so.” Fred ran his hands over her bare arms, sending delightful shivers down Hermione’s spine and giving her goose pimples. “This is a lovely dress but you must be freezing out here.”

“You’re the one that dragged me out here,” she teased, giving his chest a playful shove. “Besides, you were doing a very good job of warming me up before we were so rudely interrupted.”

“Oh, was I now?” Fred said, leaning back in.

“Yeah, you were,” Hermione said, moving to kiss him again but he moved at the last second and nudged her nose with his.

“And what exactly was I doing?” he murmured. “I forget.”

“Fred.”

“Hmm?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

He cupped her face in his hands and his lips were once again on hers, more demanding

this time. As she pulled him close, Fred’s hands moved from her face and into her hair, then slowly came to rest on her hips. It was inevitable that they would once again be interrupted.

“If you two turtle doves aren’t inside in two minutes, your presents are automatically surrendered to Teddy and Victoire!” George yelled, shutting the door before either Fred or Hermione could reply. 

“Jokes on them. I already got my present,” Hermione said, moving back for a third kiss.

“I haven’t got mine yet, though.” Fred placed a chaste kiss on her lips and jumped off the picnic table as Hermione put on an exaggerated pout. He grinned and held out his hand. “Night’s not over yet, love. I foresee many more snogging opportunities.”

“I’m holding you to that, Weasley,” she said, standing up on the bench and smiling down at him.

“I hope you hold me to a lot of things,” Fred replied with a wink, taking her hand and helping her step down.

Hand in hand, they walked into the house and found the rest of the family squeezed into the living room as Molly started handing out gifts. The couple found a space on the couch beside Charlie that they were able to wedge themselves into. 

Snuggled into Fred’s side, surrounded by people she loved as Celestina Warbeck played on the stereo, Hermione felt like she was finally exactly where she should be. She laughed her head off when Harry opened up a pair of very tight, dragon leather pants and was forced to try them on. She violently blushed when Fred stripped off his shirt to don his new orange and maroon sweater from Molly. And she was touched when Molly gave her an unexpected gift of a new knitted hat and scarf.

“Thank you,” Hermione said, running her fingers over the soft violet wool.

“You’re very welcome, dear,” Molly said, bending down and kissing the top of her head.

Fred wasted no time snatching up the hat and pulling it down over her head. “You look nice in purple.”

“Mmm, it matches my ring,” Hermione said, holding up her hand.

“All colors point to positive,” Fred chuckled, glancing to the side.

Hermione followed his gaze across the room to see George watching them with a smug smile on his face. He gave them a wave and then leaned over to whisper in Angelina’s ear. She smiled, nodded, and George jumped to his feet.

Fred wasn’t paying attention to his brother anymore. He had draped Hermione’s new scarf around her neck and was pulling her in for a kiss. He was a little put out when Hermione put a finger to his lips.

“Just a second. You’ll want to hear this,” she whispered, pointing to George.

George cleared his throat and the noisy room quieted. “Ang and I are excited to announce that, come June, Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes will have an official heir.” When everyone just sat and stared at him, George sighed and said, “Angelina is pregnant. We’re having a baby.”

The room erupted into cheers and congratulations. Fred vaulted from the couch and wrapped his twin in a hug. Molly was a mess of happy tears as she asked Angelina about a hundred questions within the span of thirty-seconds. Arthur disappeared to the kitchen and returned with a tray of glasses and what he declared was his best aged Firewhisky. 

As drinks were passed around, Fred returned to Hermione’s side.

“You knew about this?” he asked.

“I did,” she confirmed, taking a glass from the passing tray.

“And you didn’t tell anyone?”

“What can I say? I’m a good secret keeper.” She arched her eyebrows and smirked.

“I would very much like to hear some of your secrets,” Fred said, bending down and kissing her lips.

“Ugh, put a lid on the mushy stuff, you two,” Charlie groaned.

“Just because your dragons won’t kiss you doesn’t mean you have to ruin everyone else’s fun,” Fred teased and then quickly ducked away to avoid being put in a headlock by his older brother. 

“Everyone, raise your glasses,” Arthur called. “To Angelina and George!”

“To Angelina and George!” everyone chorused as they clinked their glasses together and downed their whisky. 

Hermione involuntarily shuddered as the alcohol seared her throat and warmed her stomach. With the room buzzing with renewed excitement, Fred grabbed her hand and led her through the kitchen, to the scullery. 

“I don’t think anyone is going to miss us for a while,” he said, slowly backing her up against the wall. 

“Whatever shall we do with this little slice of privacy?” Hermione asked innocently as she floated her mistletoe up and affixed it to the ceiling.

“Tell each other secrets,” Fred murmured as he trailed kisses along her jawline.

“What’s your secret?” Hermione asked breathlessly as she ran her fingers through his hair. 

“I love you,” Fred said, moving to her lips and briefly swirling his tongue with hers before adding, “and I’m sorry I let my stupid pride get in the way of telling you that sooner.”

“I love you, too,” she said, hungrily pulling him back to her; wanting his kisses more than she had ever wanted anything else. 

“Anything else you’d like to share?” he purred, nipping at her swollen bottom lip.

“I really wish we could sneak out of here,” she breathed.

Fred pulled back and appeared to ponder her request. He slowly peeked around the corner and grinned. “Mum’s having seconds on the whisky. I think we’re safe.” He turned back to Hermione and held out his hand. “Your place or mine?”

She grasped his hand and said, “Mine,” before apparating them away.

**_But for now we are young_ **

**_Let us lay in the sun_ **

**_And count every beautiful thing we can see_ **

**_Love to be_ **

**_In the arms of all I’m keeping here with me_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for following along with my angsty/fluffy yule fic! It was both a fun and frustrating write but the best part has been reading all the comments through this little journey. The instant Bethany bashing made me laugh and the comparison to Umbridge level hate? I definitely take that as a compliment :D So thank you all for the lovely kudos and comments and if you need more Fremione sweetness, check out the Fremione Fanatics 2020 Yule Fest collection. And maybe come join our Facebook group, Fremione Fanatics <3
> 
> Oh, bonus points if anyone picked up on the few little The Office easter eggs I put in :)


End file.
